Deception and Desire
by Aleina Tempest
Summary: Hameron. Romance/Hurt/Angst. IN PROGRESS. Cameron is in terrible pain but hiding the reason why. When House realizes that his typical method of diagnosis won't work, he resorts to different tactics to uncover the truth. But is he too late to save Cameron? Does she even want to be saved by him? WARNING: sexual content, drug use, abuse. WILL BE CONTINUING SOON!
1. Chapter 1

Cameron was late again. House didn't need a watch to tell himself this much. He knew that girl inside and out. Nothing annoyed him more than inconsistencies. She was supposed to be here and she clearly wasn't That was a problem and it irked his every fiber. In fact, it irked him so much that he delved into his jacket pocket, pulled out a prescription bottle, and popped a pill into his mouth. He lumped over to the kitchenette and poured a cup of coffee with moderate disinterest. Try as he might, the absence of Cameron consumed his mind.

Moments later, a rushed and frumpy looking Cameron burst through the glass door. Today she donned a pair of jeans and a simple black button up shirt. Her hair looked windblown and utterly terrible. She walked in with her head down, threw her bag to the floor and sat in the empty chair next to Chase. The case folder was on the table in front of her and, knowing that the guys were staring at her, she made a point to bury her face within the folder, soaking up every known detail of the case thus far.

"You're late," House said suddenly. He limped over to the table and set his cup of coffee down before taking the head seat. Cameron didn't say anything. She just nodded her head in acknowledgement and continued to read through the patient history. Her brain futilely attempting to make any coherent connections. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she stared at the page. Something was wrong. House knew, he always knew. She wouldn't look at him, hell she wouldn't look at any of them. She wouldn't speak. From what he could see of her face, she looked awful. Pale, with dark circles around her eyes. "I'm sorry, perhaps you didn't hear me. You're late!" he said again leaning his torso over the table to emphasize that he was speaking to Cameron.

She didn't even look up from the file. She kept her eyes glued to the text. "When Foreman is late you tell him to come in quietly and not announce his tardiness." Cameron spoke softly. She sounded even more tired than she looked.

"Foreman's black," House retorted. At this Foreman rolled his eyes obviously becoming accustomed to the black jokes. He didn't even bother defending himself anymore because he knew House always had to be right and things were just easier when he didn't argue with House.

"So because I'm white I have to announce that I'm late?" She questioned. She slammed the file down on the table and looked intently at House. His face turned into one of astonishment when he looked directly at Cameron. She did look dreadful, almost lifeless. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. Probably just lack of sleep he conjectured. But something inside told him there was a little more to it. He's seen his whole team after working 32 hours straight and even then, she looked nothing like this. She didn't act like this either. He recalled her making comments about jello shots and sex which almost brought a grin to his face.

"No, you have to announce that you're late because you're a girl." House corrected her with biting sarcasm. She stared at him incredulously then scoffed in disbelief, refusing to answer his sexist comment. Before letting her eyes fall back into the file, she scanned across the table, narrowly avoiding the curious gazes of Chase and Foreman. "Well, then, what's wrong with our patient?" House asked his fellows.

He listened intently to every word they were saying. Granted most of the stuff they were saying he had a sardonic remark to make but he appreciated that they fought through his stubbornness. He needed them to keep throwing out ideas because as ridiculous as they seemed, sometimes pieces from two different puzzles fit. But he wouldn't ever let them know that. No, instead they can just continue thinking that he does it to be condescending and to poke fun at their limited intelligence. Foreman and Chase were throwing out some good ideas but Cameron on the other hand seemed to be having problems coming up with anything.

"Foreman, scan his brain and look for any clots or legions. Chase, do an LP and full blood work." He commanded. Obediently, Foreman and Chase closed their files and left to do the doctors bidding. As the door shut behind them, House made his way from the conference area into his personal office adjoining the room.

"Corpse bride, follow me," House added in a harsh tone. Cameron was still seated at the table, her hands fidgeting in her lap. House looked at her impatiently when she didn't even respond to his command. She was lost in her own world, oblivious to House's voice._ "She's really trying my patience today,"_ House thought to himself. He was going to need a lot more Vicodin if she was going to continue to act this way. "Cameron!" he yelled at her.

Cameron was finally roused from her state of stupor and looked up at him. He curled his finger motioning for her to follow him, which she did somewhat reluctantly. He studied her as she walked towards him. Her feet were practically dragging, shoulders drooping, and face expressionless. She stood in front of him with her arms crossed in front of her chest. He ushered her inside his private office and slammed the door behind her. She didn't even jump.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded. His blue eyes bore into hers, searching for an explanation. Her eyes were hazy and void of life. Cameron dropped her gaze and shook her head silently indication that it was either nothing or she didn't want to talk about it. Regardless of what her intentions were, that was not good enough for House. "What? Can't look me in the eye now?" He drilled. When she didn't look back at him he felt his grip tighten on the handle of his cane.

To avoid smacking her upside the head with his cane, he turned around, slammed his fist on his desk and flopped down in his chair. Trying so hard to control his anger he grabbed the over-sized tennis ball on his desk and started bouncing it on the floor. Cameron had hardly noticed he even moved.

"Just go home." He told her in a low controlled voice. Barely registering his words, she turned and trudged towards the door. As she was ready to open it, the ball that House was previously using to de-stress flew past her head and hit the door in front of her. "You're supposed to argue with me and tell me that you need to develop a deep personal relationship with our newest patient. What you aren't supposed to do is turn around and walk away without a word. Cameron does not divert from eye contact, Cameron doesn't walk away without a seemingly pointless argument. So we're left with two things here, either you're not Cameron and just a corpse looking doppleganger or there's something wrong with you. My guess is the latter."

Cameron considered his words for a second and finally opened her mouth to speak. She walked towards his desk and made herself a seat in the chair next to him. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor. House studied her intently, looking for any sign, no matter how small, to bring him to a diagnosis of his female fellow.

"I'm in pain," she whimpered. She heard him release an annoyed breath and he rolled his chair a little closer to hers.

"Wow, shocking!" He retorted. For the nth time since she'd walked into the office this morning, House hasn't been able to get a reaction out of her. When her body language didn't even shift, he began to feel slightly concerned. House doesn't know much about relationships and or caring. But what he did know all too well was pain. And if she was in pain, he would take it away. He sighed again and reached a long-fingered hand out to her and placed it under her chin forcing her to look up at him.

Though her reaction didn't change, Cameron was shocked by his motion. His touch was soft, forceful, but soft none the less. His eyes were crippled with care which was unusual indeed. His brows furrowed as his sapphire eyes scanned over her face with quick precision.

"What hurts?" He asked, removing his hand once he was sure that her head would hold up on it's on. And it did, she was looking straight into his eyes but he found himself wondering if she was even seeing him. It looked as though she was looking right through him. House noted that she didn't even show the least bit of emotion when he touched her. That was definitely an odd symptom.

"Everything," she admitted just as quietly as her last response. His mouth construed into an unsatisfied smirk. House was still battling himself; he wasn't sure if he should scream at her or hold her. Either one was unacceptable, but the former seemed to be more his style. His eyes remained fixed on her as his arm extended to the drawer of his desk. He fumbled around in there for a minute before producing a large, unfriendly needle and alcohol pad. Cameron's eyes lit up just a little.

"Take off you lab coat," He commanded. He stared at her, waiting not-so-patiently for her to comply with his wishes. She shook her head indicating that she wasn't going to remove her coat. Annoyed, House tried again. "Take off your lab coat, please?" He jeered. Cameron's head shook back and forth with more intensity and she wheeled away allowing more distance between herself and House. "Either you take off your lab coat, or I'll do it for you," House gave her an ultimatum.

Cornered, Cameron began to panic slightly. She didn't want House taking her blood. He didn't need to know. There was nothing he could do about it. It was his fault after all that she was in so much pain. Whether he liked it or not, everything she'd done, and is doing, it's all his fault. And him finding out what she was doing wouldn't take the pain away. As much as she wished he could, he couldn't. Or wouldn't. She wasn't sure which.

"I don't need a blood test," she told him with a stern look on her face. House smirked, amused by the fact that she was now playing his game. He knew, beyond doubt, that when he and Cameron engaged in one of these games, she always loses.

"Oh, resisting!? How exciting!" He teased. A thoughtful look look crept across his face. "You want me to take off your lab coat." He concluded with a smug look on his face. He knew about her feelings. Everyone knew about her feelings. He figured that this was nothing more than a desperate attempt to vie for his attention and then play hard to get. "As much as I would love to remove your clothes, I'd prefer to take them off the feisty Cameron, not this useless, unattractive...corpse!" He spat at her.

"House, I don't need a blood test," Cameron reiterated. She chose to ignore both his sexual and condescending comments. She wasn't feeding into this, not this time. Her head hurt, her muscles ached, and she felt like her body was 100 pounds heavier. House didn't pay attention to her, just stared into space looking quite bored as he normally does when she speaks.

"Too bad," he apologized to her. She breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that it was over. He moved to her side and grabbed the back of her chair, spinning her around so her back faced him. He put the needle in his mouth and placed his hands on her shoulders. He felt her body tremor under his hands and a smile of satisfaction grew on his face. The front of her lab coat was unbuttoned and so he slid his hands down to her collar bones, just far enough down to slip the coat over her shoulders and lower it down her back. She shivered as he did so.

House wasn't sure if he was pleased by her acceptance of his actions or pleased because he saw that her button up shirt was long sleeved. He sighed audibly and pulled the needle from his mouth. "Unbutton your shirt," He said in a raspy voice, somewhere between delight and annoyance.

Her body was melting under the sheer pleasure of feeling his hands touch her. She so badly wanted to unbutton her shirt for him, but not so he could stick her with a needle. Cameron shook the thought from her head. "S_top doing this to yourself Allison. You know nothing good will come out of this. You'll get a moments satisfaction of his hands touching your flesh but at what cost? Verbal assaults, emotional devastation, awkwardness for the next month, and complete disinterest from him? Don't do it, you don't love him."_ she kept telling herself. With a small ounce of strength, Cameron pulled her lab coat back to it's proper position (regretting the decision as soon as she made it) and turned to face him.

"Please, House, I don't need a blood test. I'm just...tired. I need some rest," She lied to him. House shrugged and walked back to his chair, tossing the needle into the trashcan as he did so.

"Too bad, I was looking forward to watching you unbutton your shirt. Though I have to admit I would rather see_ my_ Cameron unbuttoning her shirt, but hey I'm not a picky guy." He remarked sarcastically. "Fine, just go home. You're useless to me like this." He stated in his typical caustic voice. Cameron couldn't have agreed more...she was useless like this. She knew it was wrong but she'd tried everything to rid herself of the pain. Nothing worked. Nothing took away the pain she was feeling. Cameron silently wished she could pop a few Vicodin to fix her pain. But it wouldn't work.

House didn't say anything else to her, he just watched in silence as she walked away from him. His mind went to work, replaying the events that had just conspired over the past few minutes. He studied every little detail over and over searching for the missing link to come up with a diagnosis. After a long time reviewing the play by play, House determined three things. First, she was lying. Second, she still ached for him. And third, he was going to get to the bottom of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron returned home, stripped herself of her clothes, and drew a hot bath. As she waited for the tub to fill, she looked at herself in the mirror. She should be disgusted by what she saw, but she wasn't. This look, was the look of liberation. Freedom from the control that House had over her. How he could compel her with simple words or just a flicker of his eyes. How she would bend over backwards to do anything to please him, regardless of the cost. How she would blindly follow his every word and desperately seek for his attention and appreciation. She was tired of it. She couldn't do it anymore. It was all just too painful. She realized that her obsession with this man was destroying her life. She isolated herself from any man that seemed remotely interested in her because she deluded herself into believing that House had feelings for her and he would eventually admit that. But how long does someone have to wait before realizing that it was all a delusion created by the few suggestive remarks he's made to her. How long did she have to wait before she could be happy.

She smiled at herself, pleased with her ability to separate herself from him. It took every ounce of her being to deny him the glory of unbuttoning her shirt. It was so easy to fall back under his spell, but she knew if she did that, it would all be over. She'd return to desperate, pathetic little Cameron. If he wouldn't allow himself to feel then neither would she.

Cameron pulled out one of the drawers underneath the sink and retrieved a small brown bottle. She unscrewed the cap and used the dropper to suck up the golden brown liquid from within the container. She threw her head back, scarily just the way House does when he swallows his pills, and emptied the contents of the dropper under her tongue. She breathed deeply for thirty seconds, allowing the foul tasting liquid to sink into her bloodstream. By the time her thirty seconds was up, almost all of the liquid had been absorbed into her mouth. Cameron swallowed the remaining liquid knowing that it would eventually seep into her bloodstream through the roof of her mouth. She tossed the jar back into the drawer and lowered herself into the bath.

The water was hot, and she enjoyed every minute of the water relieving the pain in her muscles. Her head lay back against the curved rim of the ceramic tub and she closed her eyes, waiting for the medicine to take effect. Soon enough, her body was feeling numb, her mind was flying a million miles an hour, concentrating on everything and nothing at all. The sensation consumed her entirely. She enjoyed every minute of it.

* * *

House was limping through the hallways of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital on his way to pay Wilson a visit. He reached Wilson's office and opened the door without knocking. Wilson looked up from a stack of papers pouring over his desk.

"She's in pain," House said making his way to the window. He shifted one of the blinds to get a better view.

"Okay, I'll bite. Who's in pain, House?" Wilson inquired, not really wanting to, but knowing that he should otherwise House would start some complicated metaphor that he really didn't have time for.

"Cuddy, I just had hot, crazy, primal sex with her," he sneered sarcastically.

"Somehow I doubt that," Wilson returned, clearly not amused by House's games. House sighed and sat down on the couch facing Wilson's desk, examining his cane with some thoughtfulness.

"Cameron," He spoke softly. Wilson's interest was piqued. He closed the folder in which he was feverishly studying when House came in. His hands clasped together as they do when he is concerned and he leaned into his desk.

"Well, I'm sure she is on account of the abuse you put her through," Wilson pointed out. House shot him a look.

"She looks like a zombie," House continued.

"Oh, right, zombie's aren't your thing. That's why you treat her like the runt of the litter." Wilson concluded. House started to wonder why he even bothered coming to talk to Wilson. He wouldn't be any help, he never is. The only reason House ever works through his problems with Wilson is so he doesn't have to think about the annoying comments and can openly berate him whilst solving the mystery in his head.

"She came in this morning, pale, dark circles - "

"She's tired House. You've been working her to death!" Wilson interrupted.

"She hardly talked, barely moved, wouldn't make eye contact with me. Hell she wouldn't even argue with me!" House spoke over Wilson. Admittedly, Wilson was a little more interested now. Walking away from a tiff and refusing to look at House is uncharacteristically...Cameron.

"Did she say what was wrong?" Wilson asked with concern apparent in his voice.

"She's in pain!" He yelled, angry that he had to say it again. He said it once, he didn't need to say it again. Wilson sighed knowing that this conversation wasn't going to be easy.

"Did you ask her why?" Wilson inquired.

"Of course I asked her why? I'm a doctor, I always ask why!" He lied. The annoyance was becoming very apparent, not only in House's voice but in his body language as well. He was tapping his cane relentless on Wilson's hard-wood floors.

"What did she say?" He asked, knowing the question would only annoy House further. But what choice did he have really?

"She said she was tired." House admitted.

"I rest my case, she needs a break," Wilson said, sounding relieved. Not only because he could get back to his work, but because he cared about Cameron. In their years of working at the hospital together, Wilson had become drawn to Cameron. She was kind, sensitive, funny, and she cared about people no matter what was going on in her own life.

"She wouldn't let me take a blood sample, she wouldn't let me take off her lab coat..." House trailed off. He head Wilson slam his pen down on the table and exhale loudly. He pinched his brow between his forefinger and thumb.

"Because she's exhausted House! She doesn't need blood work, she needs rest," Wilson stressed. House stopped tapping his cane on the floor and looked directly into Wilson's eyes.

"She wouldn't let me unbutton her shirt," He concluded and pushed himself up off the couch, limping towards the door.

Wilson had to admit that again, denying a pass from House was uncharacteristically... Cameron. But it didn't mean that something was wrong with her.

"Oh I get it. You're mad because she denied one of your sexually charged tactics. Sorry House, but you gotta admit, she's probably tired of it." Wilson toyed with him. House stopped before the door and looked up at the ceiling.

"I doubt that," he said before leaving Wilson's office.

Chase and Foreman were busy picking up the slack left by Cameron's early departure, House had barely seen them all day. They'd paged him with updates on the patient who has been stabilized for the time being, but they were no closer to finding what was wrong with the guy than they were that morning. House really could've used Cameron's expertise for this one, but he'd never admit that he needed her. He'd been successful in his practice before she came into his life and he sure as hell would be fine if she wasn't around for a day or so.

* * *

Cameron spent the rest of her day, relaxed on the couch losing herself in one of her favorite activities. She'd been playing video games since she got out of the tub and was enjoying losing herself in an alternate universe where she could concentrate on correcting the timeline distortions rather than focusing on her real world problems. No one knew of her love for video games, simply because no one ever asked and if she did offer up the information, she'd only be teased by her male co-workers for being a nerd. Chase would say she only plays video games because House has an obsession with his PSP and that would give them something to talk about.

Eventually, Cameron drifted into blackness, but her rest, such as it can be called, was punctured by fragmented dreams of blood and fright. She awoke abruptly from her sleep drenched in sweat, panting hard. It took a moment for her to recognize her surroundings. After catching her breath, Cameron glanced at the clock on the wall which read 5:30am. It was early, but she sure as hell wasn't getting back to sleep now. _"At least I won't be late today,"_ she said to herself and slowly got up off the couch and made her way towards the shower.

* * *

House hardly slept that night. Try as he might to convince himself that he wasn't disturbed by Cameron's strange behavior, he couldn't shake it from his head. He became angry with himself, telling himself over and over that he didn't really care about her. He cared more about her intelligence. He needed her on this case and she had abandoned him just as everyone else did. She was no different from them. His resentment led to irrational anger which manifested in excessive pain in his bum leg. He popped a Vicodin and lay his head back on his pillow, staring up into the darkness of his room. As the pain dulled and his mind became more lucid, he came to the startling realization that he, god knows why, wanted to take her pain away. He didn't want to see her hurting.

He formulated so many ideas in his head about how to help her, but would she agree to any of them? She was so distant, could he even bring her back or was she that far gone? If she didn't even want him to take a blood sample, how on earth would he be able to convince her to do any other tests. "Maybe testing isn't the answer" a voice somewhere inside his head reverberated. House thought on this for a moment but then dismissed it under the assumption that testing can solve every riddle and every mystery. But again, he knew that testing would not produce the answers he desired. No, there had to be other methods. Again, he pondered on the thought.

House must have dozed off at some point because he awoke suddenly to his alarm screaming in his ear. Disgruntled by the lack of sleep, House slammed his fist on the clock which immediately stopped it's incessant whining. A deep yawn burst from his mouth as he opened his eyes facing the morning light. The first thing on his mind once he was awake and alert was Cameron. Would she be at work today? Would she be any better than yesterday? If she wasn't, what should he do? And if she was better, does he leave the situation alone and assume that her problems were due to sleep deprivation? He didn't know. His mind was flooded with too many questions that had no definite answers. He thought about calling her, just to check in, that's what a normal boss would do, right? But decided he better not. He'd rather not deal with her until he absolutely had to. He didn't want to be distracted with questions he couldn't answer this early in the morning.

House took his time getting ready that morning which caused him to be later than his normal late time. Trying, and failing miserably, the thought of her would not leave his head. Sure, he'd thought about her often before this incident. He liked imagining what treasures lie underneath her clothes and he like to think of how her hands would feel roaming over his own skin. Sometimes he wondered how long she would be working for him. She's brilliant afterall and he assumed that once the fellowship was completed that she'd take off to a hospital far away to further her career. He wanted that for her. But the selfish beast in him hoped, beyond all else, that she would stay.

Admittedly, he had become drawn to her over the time they'd spent working together. He admired her and secretly enjoyed having her around. If he had it his way, she'd stay working with him forever. At worst, he could let her go, but only if she took another job at PPTH so he'd still be able to see her almost regularly. But there had to be something more. In all his years of working, he'd had so many fellows in his employment. So many bright minds, so many beautiful bodies. Yet something about Cameron was different. She was so ready and willing to stand by his side and take up arms on his behalf. She's fought against everyone for him; Cuddy, Wilson, Chase and Foreman, even that asshole cop that wanted to put him away and the giant Vogler. Her confidence in him was unwavering, and probably the only constant thing in his life. Well, aside from the pain in his leg and the Vicodin he consumed to dull it.

Against her better judgment, she remained loyal to him. And how did he repay her? Treating her like crap, over-looking her diagnoses, screwing with her mind for nothing more than the simple fact that he could? He knew he didn't deserve her loyalty but that's what grounded him in this crazy world. If she left, he'd be simply devastated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Notes: I don't own any of the characters. I just like to play with them. Please leave me feedback if you like (or don't like) the story. Thanks for reading!**

Chase, Foreman, and Cameron were waiting patiently in the conference room for House to finally arrive. Foreman was attempting to begin the differential but Chase and Cameron weren't so willing to work with him. Giving up, Foreman sat down across the table from Cameron and looked at her.

"Are you feeling better today Cameron?" he asked.

Cameron nodded her head and offered him a little smile but restrained herself from asking why he even cared. He'd made it very clear that they weren't friends, just colleagues. She'd forgiven him of course, but she hadn't forgotten about it. It was always in the back of her mind and she found herself becoming extremely careful of the information she disclosed from Foreman.

"Good, I'm glad. We really could have used you yesterday Cameron," Chase chimed in.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was just...exhausted. I needed some rest." She told them both.

"We all do," Foreman said with a smile.

Cameron looked, and felt, a lot better than she did yesterday. Her skin wasn't so pale but she still had dark circles around her eyes. Mentally she felt much more awake and alive than she had previously but the pain still consumed her. She couldn't fully concentrate on the case at hand because she was constantly forcing the pain out of her mind. And when she wasn't battling with that, she was struggling to move normally so no one would suspect that she's still in pain. It was terrible, she finally understood why House relied on the Vicodin so much.

Moments later an exhausted looking House barged into the room and without so much as a glance in her direction, he went straight to the coffee pot and began to pour some of the sweet nectar in his mug. Yet, much to his dismay, the mug was only half filled when the coffee pot emptied.

"Why is there no coffee left?" House asked in a sarcastic bewildered tone. "Oh, I know, because Cameron's not in the kitchen." He sneered. "Make some more," He commanded and took his seat at the head of the table with his half full mug of coffee. Cameron went to get up but before she could, Foreman offered to get up and make it for them.

"I got it, Cameron," He said. House pushed his cane down on Foreman's knees and looked at him, then at Cameron.

"Cameron when did you get so black and manly?" He questioned. Foreman gave him an annoyed look and pushed the cane off his legs.

"House, she's still not feeling 100%, it's just coffee, I got it." He insisted trying not to let the irritation present itself in his voice.

"But I like the way Cameron makes it," House responded with a puppy dog face. Foreman could only roll his eyes and muttered an apology to Cameron. She simply smiled and thanked him for the attempt. She pushed herself, slowly out of her chair and walked rigidly to the kitchenette. The coffee was in the upper cabinet which meant for Cameron, standing on her tip toes and still needing to stretch to reach it. As she did, a fire ignited in her ribs and she winced in pain. But just as quickly as she let it show, she recovered. She scooped out just the right amount of grinds that House liked and put them in the filter. As she carefully measured the water for the pot, she chanced a look to see if they had noticed her second of pain. Foreman and Chase had their heads buried in the case file but House was staring intently at her with a concerned and yet confused look on his face. Yep, he saw it. She knew he had seen it. She just gave him a little smile and turned her attention back to the coffee.

Once the coffee had been brewed she grabbed a clean mug and topped it off for House only to see that he'd made himself quite comfortable enjoying her cup of coffee. He grinned at her as he sipped slowly from her mug. She rolled her eyes and set the fresh cup of coffee in front of herself but not touching it.

The four of them deliberated about the case and 20 minutes later House had sent Foreman and Chase off to do some more tests. Cameron was left alone with House for the second day in a row. He leaned back in the chair and tapped his cane on the floor while studying Cameron and her reaction. He'd noticed immediately that she looked better today than she did yesterday but his glimmer of hope was destroyed when he saw her wince while preparing the coffee.

"I'm okay to work today," Cameron said looking at him. House was wearing his signature I-think-you're-lying face once she finished her statement.

"Judging from what I've seen you're okay to do my paperwork today." He responded to her. She groaned at his comment.

"House, please, let me work," She practically begged. House reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his bottle of Vicodin and set it on the table in between them. His head was looking down at the bottle and his right index finger traced the circle outline of the cap. Cameron watched him as he did. His eyes looked up at her and saw he watching him. He smiled a bit. "Tantalizing, isn't it?" He asked her. Cameron swallowed hard and nodded her head slightly. He removed his finger and looked directly at her. Her eyes remained on the bottle. "I can take your pain away," He spoke softly.

"I don't need the drugs," she said, waking herself from the lovely reverie she'd been in.

"Come on, Cameron. I won't tell. You're in pain, just take the damn pills." He said. Again Cameron shook her head.

"I can't," she said softly and broke off her stare from the bottle. House sighed.

"Right, I get it. You're morally bound to staying in pain because that's the right thing to do. You can't take the pills because their not yours. And if you took them then you'd be stealing and violating the law." House sniped. Much to his surprise, Cameron laughed a little.

"It's not that," she admitted.

"Then what Cameron!? What is it? You're afraid that everyone will think you're just a pathetic junkie like me?

"No," She replied sternly. "And you're not pathetic," she added a moment later.

"Yeah I'm incredibly handsome when I lay in a puddle of my own vomit after taking too many. I look dashing with cuts in my arm. You're pathetic if you believe that I'm not." He spat. Cameron was used to this behavior, he only spoke like this when he was out of ideas. If there was nothing left, he resorted to making her feel guilty and in turn she would give him what he wanted. She knew exactly what he was doing. It sucks to be ignored and having to watch him with other women but the more he denied her the pleasure of his attention, the more she was able to see about him.

"House, you are many things, but pathetic is not one of them," she reassured him. Somehow the conversation had switched from talking about her to talking about him and Cameron didn't mind at all.

"You're young and naïve, you don't know anything," He said gravely. Cameron sighed, giving up on the conversation.

"Okay House, you're right, are you happy now?" She asked him angrily. God he's just so damn frustrating! Even more frustrating is the fact that his impossibly cold personality had such a pull on her heart. Never in her life had she met someone so incredibly thick, so thick in fact, she wanted to rip her hair out and scream at him and in the same moment, snake her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. They sat there for a moment in silence, neither one of them willing to break it.

House was the first to move, and when he did, it was so sudden that it made Cameron jump slightly. She felt a twinge of pain rush down her side, but it was manageable. He limped into his office and returned with a mountain of papers and dropped them on the table in front of her. A few of the folders fell to the floor by her feet and papers scattered everywhere.

"Get to work," he said and turned to go back into his office. Cameron instinctively bent over to pick up the papers from the floor but was met with a searing pain in her ribs. The pain was so strong and so sudden, she lost her breath and gasped out loud. House turned to face her in just enough time to see her collapse on the floor, wrapping her arms around her ribs, and writhing in pain. She was making small whimpering noises trying to stifle back her tears.

House dropped to the floor by her side and gently rolled her onto her back and tilted her head back to allow air to flow into her lungs. He lowered his head to her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. He listened with his ear pressed against her. From what he could tell without a stethoscope, everything was okay. He pulled back and looked into her face which was still construed from the pain ravaging her body. He noticed a pool of tears in the corner of her eyes threatening to flood her face at any second. Without a second thought, House grabbed the bottom of her shirt, ready to expose her stomach. He worried that she'd have some internal bleeding and prayed that there wasn't.

As soon as Cameron felt his hands on her shirt, her hands flew down over top of his, holding them in place so that he couldn't lift her shirt. House shot her an angry look.

"Now isn't the time to become self-conscious," he said and tried using some force to pull her shirt up. But she held her ground and didn't allow him to go any further. "Cameron, you're being intentionally stupid!" He yelled. And still she didn't remove her hands from his. Tired of her games, House released his grip on her shirt and backed away from her. He noted that her breathing had gotten back to normal and the tears were fading from her eyes. He looked down at the floor, trying so hard to to clock her in the head with his cane so he could just give her a damn look-over. Whether it was to satisfy his aching curiosity or to make sure she really was okay, he didn't know.

"House, please, I'm okay," Cameron begged in a raspy voice. It was obvious the pain was still ravaging her body because she spoke through clenched teeth. When he didn't say anything Cameron continued her statement. "I fell - "

"No you collapsed!" He yelled angrily at her. He stuffed his hand in his pocket searching for the pill bottle only to realize it was still sitting on the table. House pulled himself from the floor using the table as a crutch and popped a couple pills in his mouth and swallowed hard.

"I fell in the shower a couple nights ago, banged my side on the tub. It's sore but nothing is broken, just the way I bent down, it hurt,"Cameron explained softly to him. "I'm sorry," she concluded.

"Can you stand?" He asked her. Cameron nodded and pushed her torso off the floor using her elbows. The pain stung and she squeezed her eyes shut trying to will it away. House saw it and feeling almost sorry for the fragile girl, he offered his hand out to her. Cameron took it without hesitation and used him as anchor to pull herself from the ground. He pulled hard, forcing Cameron to collide with him, his eyes never leaving her face. Cameron stumbled over her own feet, falling face first into his chest and throwing her arms around him to avoid falling over completely. To her surprise, she felt his hands rest gently on her hips and push her back ever so slightly. Just enough so that their faces were mere inches apart. She looked up at him in a trance-like state, searching through his blue eyes. Her lips were parted from the shock and she quickly closed her mouth and looked away from him. She took a step backwards and felt his hands fall from her hips. She missed the feeling as soon as he let go.

He couldn't believe he'd just done that. He was just as shocked by his own actions as Cameron was. He wasn't sure what came over him, but when her body pressed up against his, something burned deep inside of him. A familiar burn, an ache, a longing to hold someone close to him. To be needed. He knew she didn't want to move but he also knew that if she hadn't, he would've done something even more stupid which in turn would lead to him verbally assaulting her because he couldn't control his own actions.

"Come with me," he said. He grabbed his cane and limped towards the door leading into the hallway. He held it open for her, carefully examining her walk. She appeared not to be disoriented. Just sluggish. And quite comically she was favoring her left side as she walked. Now that, House found truly humorous. They walked slowly in silence down the hallway until he couldn't take it anymore. "Sorry Cameron, you don't make limping sexy like I do," He teased as he slowed his pace and watched her walk ahead of him. His focus shifted from her limp to her little round ass.

"No one can pull off a limp like you," she said in annoyance and continued walking. They arrived in front of Cuddy's office a few minutes later and House ushered her inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: I do not own any of the characters. I just like to play with them. Please leave me feedback if you like (or don't like the story). Thanks for reading!**

The two of them burst through Cuddy's doors squabbling in hushed tones. Cameron was begging for House to not say anything. His only response was telling her to shut up and get inside the damned office. Cuddy looked up from her papers as the two practically fell over each other coming in the door.

"Sit," House commanded Cameron and nodded his head towards one of Cuddy's nice big comfy chairs. Cuddy was clearly confused about the proceedings occurring in her office and she just stared at House. "My patient is refusing treatment," he said to her. Cameron scoffed and rolled her eyes, sinking further down into the chair. She crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively, looking quite juvenile as she did so.

"What patient, House?" Cuddy asked exasperated. House immediately pointed at Cameron. "That's not your patient House. Your patient is still downstairs in pain and still undiagnosed."

"She became my patient the minute she collapsed on my office floor." House spoke coolly. Cameron went to speak but before she could House told her to shut up.

Cuddy looked down at Cameron. "Is this true?" she asked in a concerned voice. Cuddy sat in the chair next to Cameron and looked sympathetically at her.

"Yes, but I told him that I'd fallen in the shower a few days ago. I banged my side on the tub. There's nothing wrong, nothing is broken, bleeding, protruding, leaking, hemorrhaging, clotting, or anything!" Cameron said all in one breath. Her face was desperate and pleading. She hoped to god that Cuddy would see reason here.

"She's lying!" House yelled.

"How can she be lying House, she's a doctor, I think she would know whether she needs medical attention!" Cuddy responded in a protective voice.

"Oh come on Cuddy! How does such a fine ass find its way on to such a gullible woman!" He said. "She's being stubborn! She won't let me examine her or take blood work. It's obvious she's hiding something!" He said. He watched as Cameron's eyes widened. She bit her lower lip and tried to remain calm and under control.

_"So she is hiding something,"_ House thought to himself. _"I knew it."_

"Of course she doesn't want you testing her! She's probably scared to death that you'll put her through a series of completely unnecessary tests just to satisfy your own curiosity!" Cuddy yelled back at him. "I'm sorry House, I'm not giving you permission to test Cameron for anything. Even if it's something more than falling in the shower she isn't obligated to tell you. You think she's hiding something? Find another way to get your answer." She told him. With that, Cuddy got up and stood between House and Cameron.

"Fine." House replied. He looked around Cuddy and directly into Cameron's eyes. "Still need a mommy to fight your battles for you. I thought you were stronger than that." He spat and stormed out of Cuddy's office. The two women watched him as he left without another look back. Once he was out of sight, Cameron felt it was safe to speak.

"Thank you," she said graciously. Cuddy offered her a warm smile and rested her hand on Cameron's shoulder before returning to the chair behind her desk.

"He's an ass. You and I both know that." Cuddy said. Cameron simply nodded her head in agreement and allowed a smile to spread across her face. "But, he is smart and he eventually gets what he wants regardless of what I tell him," Cuddy's tone changed into a more serious one.

Cameron knew this all too well. House knew exactly how to manipulate people to get exactly what he wants. He does it so well that sometimes his hard to know when he's being manipulative. Cameron concluded that it's just easier to assume he's being manipulative every minute of the day. Operating under that assumption, Cameron was able to put some distance between herself and House. She was always on guard, careful not to reveal too much or too little when he questioned her. But it's exhausting. And she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep it up.

"Cameron, if you don't want to tell him the truth, no one is forcing you. But sometimes, the truth can save a life, maybe even two." Cuddy concluded trying to look concerned but serious at the same time. Cameron stepped closer towards her desk, closing the space so she could speak in a softer tone.

"This truth won't" She replied coolly and turned to walk out of the office. She heard Cuddy gasp and rise to her feet.

"So he's right, isn't he? You're hiding something, aren't you?" Cuddy accused her in the same tone she uses when scolded House. Cameron sighed and looked back at her.

"Yeah," she admitted. A look of disappointment crossed Cuddy's face then she threw her hands up in the air and flopped back into her chair.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about that." She exhaled.

"No, you can't and neither can House." Cameron reaffirmed.

"Just remember that your on his radar now. He's going to be analyzing your every move and your every word. If you want to play this game, well, you already know what will happen," Cuddy forewarned. Cameron knew. She knew that it would end badly. She knew that House would eventually find out, but she had hoped that as long as she kept her distance, everything would pass before House could figure it out. Then things would get back to normal and House wouldn't have a reason to be fixated on her.

* * *

House was lumbering through the hospital hallways with an unpleasant look on his face. More unpleasant than normal. The little bitch was so god damned stupid. He could help her and she refuses. She's in pain and doesn't want anyone to see it. He knew, beyond reasonable doubt, that she was hiding something. His mind was racing trying to connect all the things he'd observed over the past 48 hours but couldn't think of a medical ailment that would cause her symptoms. Maybe everyone was right, she just needed rest. Maybe she wasn't lying and just bruised her ribs. He shook his head removing the thought from his mind. He was certain that there was something more going on. And he was certainly going to find out.

* * *

After leaving Cuddy's office, Cameron felt a little apprehensive about returning to House's office. She wanted to avoid him at least for the rest of the day, especially since he was pretty pissed off that he wasn't getting answers from her or Cuddy. She figured that he'd try getting Wilson involved. But realistically, Cameron knew that she wouldn't be able to avoid House, even if she flew across the country. When he was on the hunt, he never gave up pursuit. That bum leg might slow him down, but never stops him.

With no other option, Cameron slowly made her way back to House's office and breathed a sigh of relief when no one was there. She looked at the stack of papers House had given her to work on and silently cursed him for being such an ass. Nonetheless, she began working through the papers, slowly decreasing the 'to-do' pile and increasing the 'done' pile. Hours went by and still the papers hadn't been completed. Cameron was interrupted by House barging into his personal office space. He didn't seem to notice her, so she watched him as he paced back and forth with brows furrowed. No doubt he was confounded by his current patient, whom she'd heard that Chase and Foreman had screwed up some pretty simple tests on. Seeing him like this drove a knife into her heart.

There were so many things to despise about House, and most people saw those things and refused to look deeper. But seeing him in complete concentration, oblivious to anyone or anything around him, lost in his own world...it brought him solace. He wasn't feeling the pain of his leg, he was thinking of anything but saving a life. His methods were unorthodox and sometimes even cruel but it was all because he cared. If he didn't, he'd just give up and say there's nothing that could be done to save the patient. She loved watching him work like this, his movements were so precise. Precise to the point of mesmerizing. Cameron didn't really know how to explain it...but it was like House was a different person like this. She found herself smiling as she watched him, lost in her own thoughts.

As if compelled by some invisible force, Cameron got up out of her seat and walked towards the door adjoining House's personal office space and their conference room. She'd forgotten all about not wanting to be near him. She'd forgotten about his comments earlier in the day. She'd forgotten because her desire to help him surpassed her desire to hide from him. And that's when she knew. She was hopelessly in love with him. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she wasn't in love with him, the cold hard truth is that he held her heart in the palm of his hand. The epiphany was terrifying and she stopped just a few feet from the door with her mouth hanging open. He held her heart in the palm of his hand, the thought ran through her mind again. There was only two ways this would end. Either he'd embrace it, or he'd destroy it. Cameron knew that her odds were on the latter option. She knew, before anything even began, that there would be a terrible ending.

House looked up and saw her staring at him from the opposite side of the door. Looking stupid, Cameron pulled herself together, put on a confident face, and opened the door into his office. He looked her up and down, showing no particular emotion on his face.

"Hi," she said. She didn't know what to say to him, her mind was still focused on her love for him and she wasn't ready to be talking to him just yet. But she couldn't just stand there and look like an ass for staring at him.

His face became confused but he said nothing to her. He leaned against his bookshelf and stared aimlessly past her.

"Can you uh, can you write me a prescription?" she asked while biting on her lip. He sighed and dropped his head to the floor.

"Sorry, that offer has expired." He told her and shrugged his shoulders. Much to his surprise, she smiled and just nodded her head.

"I figured that, oh well, thanks though," she said in an almost cheery voice and turned to walk out of the door. House wasn't sure what she was up to, but this had to be some kind of ploy. Cameron would never ask him to write her a prescription, especially after she'd refused his help earlier. Either that, or she really was in that much pain but was too damn stubborn to admit it earlier.

"Fine." He said just before she reached the door. He saw her shoulders relax and watched her intently as she turned around to face him. He walked slowly over towards his desk and grabbed the prescription pad. "What do you want?" He asked.

Cameron was surprised that he was so willing to comply. She regarded him with a suspicious look, carefully watching what he pulled from his desk. She didn't want to be blind-sided with a needle or any of the normal, insane things House would try to do. She considered his question for a moment. In all honesty, she didn't even want the pills.

"Do yours work well?" She asked him. He regarded her for a second before walking back over to her.

"Incredibly, can't you tell?" he responded sounding sarcastic as always. She smiled at him.

"You know, instead of being an ass about everything, you could have just answered the question with a simple yes or no," she teased.

"Instead of being naïve you could have just assumed how I would've answered and not asked the question in the first place," he retaliated.

"True, but then we'd both be standing here in silence still, which by now would be pretty awkward," Cameron said.

"I like silence," He reminded her. House was very near to her now, their eyes had been locked on one another's for the duration of his walk towards her. When he finally stopped just a foot or so away from her, Cameron let her eyes roam down his body then back up to his face. She bit her bottom lip to avoid smiling like an idiot. House noticed her movements and cocked his head curiously at her. Something was definitely up.

"I'm not...silent," she whispered and flashing him a seductive smile. House eyes widened, shocked and pleased with what she'd just said. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to pull her up against him, to feel her body pressed against his. He wouldn't let go if it happened again, he'd hold onto her, allow his hands to explore every inch and curve of her body, memorizing it. Quickly snapping out of his fantasy House took a step back from her. He pulled a pen from his pocket and with a lot of difficulty, he removed his eyes from her and dropped them to his prescription pad as he scribbled something down.

"Here, this should help shut you up and help with your pain," he said, still writing on the pad. When he was done, he ripped the sheet off and held it out to her. She went to take it from his hand when he snatched it back from her.

"Seriously?" She asked him. "Don't act like a child."

"On the contrary, I'm being a responsibly adult. It would be against medical regulations to hand over a prescription to a patient before an examination," he taunted. Cameron clicked her tongue in annoyance and shifted her wight to one side. "You let me do one examination, no tests, just an exam, and I'll give you this prescription." He offered her. Cameron scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

"House, come on, you think I'm going to fall for that? I bet you just scribbled some nonsense on that piece of paper, thinking that I'm desperate for those pills. And you wouldn't do anything for me unless it benefited yourself in the long run." She said defiantly. House considered her for a moment.

"And so the student surpasses the teacher," he said simply, crumbling up the paper and shooting it towards the trashcan. He pulled his pen out again and wrote another prescription, this time, handing it directly to her. She reached out with some reservation and was surprised when he didn't play another trick on her. She looked down and saw a prescription for Vicodin.

"Thank you," she said, reaching out to touch his hand that was clenched tightly around his cane. She let her fingertips rest on his hand for only a second before trailing them down his own long fingers. He watched as her fingers fell off of his and then looked back up at her. She was smiling at him and without another word, she turned and walked out of his office.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: I don't own any of these characters I just like to play with them. Please leave me some feedback if you like (or don't like) the story. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

House was left speechless by her, which is the last thing he really needed, seeing as how he had a dying patient to deal with. He silently cursed her for invading his head with her girlish charm. She'd poisoned him. Everything he thought about somehow came back to her. Came back to her hand on his. Came back to her obvious sexual comment that he so desperately wanted to put to the test. He couldn't work like this.

Frustrated, House sat down in his chair and covered his ears with the headphones hooked up to his stereo. He leaned back and closed his eyes listening to the melodic piano ringing in his ears. Music was calming to his soul. It cleared his mind, allowed him to think objectively, which is exaclty what he needed to be doing, not preoccupying himself with Cameron.

* * *

One very pleased Dr. Cameron was walked through the hospital halls on another one of her 'House Highs' as Chase and Foreman referred to them. With a pleasant smile on her face, she walked to the clinic and handed over the prescription House had given her. At first, she hadn't planned on even filling it but then decided that the pills might come in handy if the pain became too much for her to bear.

The attendant took the script without a second thought and set to work on filling it. Cameron waited patiently observing the people in the waiting room. The people here today were no different than the people here any other day. Overly concerned mothers with their children who claimed to have a sore throat and a runny nose. Young teenage girls looking nervous but trying to hide it. Cameron bet that almost all of them were here for birth control. Cameron understood why House was always so frustrated when working in the clinic. She didn't like doing it either.

It's not that she didn't like the work per se, but she'd rather spend her time dealing with more pressing cases. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she chided herself for valuing the sicker patients over the ones in the clinic. She had been spending too much time in House's presence. His arrogance and egotism was certainly rubbing off on her. Since when did she place herself on such a pedestal where she thought she shouldn't be bothered with routine visits to a clinic. She sighed and pushed the thought from her mind, knowing that if she dwelt on it for too long, she'd become angry. Cameron had enough emotions flooding through her head, she didn't need to add anger on top of it all.

Cameron's clinic duty started at 5pm this evening and she decided that she'd take a quick shower before clocking in for duty. She grabbed the pill bottle from the pharmacy and thanked the attendant then proceeded to make her way to the ladies showers. Her hands turned the dial on her locker, inputting the correct combination on auto-pilot and popping it open. She first placed the bottle of pills in her purse and began to remove her lab coat. She swapped the coat for the towel that was hanging on one of the hooks. Before removing her clothing she looked around, making sure that no one else in the locker room and once she was satisfied that she was alone, Cameron quickly discarded her clothes and stuffed them into her bag and wrapped the towel tightly around her body.

After giving her locker another look, just to make sure all of her items were still there, her eyes rested on her purse. She looked over her shoulder, slightly paranoid, and quickly reached into the small inside pocket retrieving a little brown bottle. She regarded it for a moment with hesitation before unscrewing the lid, filling the dropper, and dispensing the liquid underneath her tongue. Hurriedly Cameron stuffed the bottle back in the purse and slammed the locker shut, making her way to one of the most secluded showers.

The warm water felt great running over her skin and she allowed herself just a few minutes to let the water flow down her body. She closed her eyes as her body began to feel lighter and her mind more nimble. She breathed a sigh of relief. The medicine she'd taken in the morning was beginning to wear off and the pain started to come back. Against her better judgement she took another dose, not wanting to work another four hours in the clinic with pain searing through her chest and abdomen. Then she began to feel guilty. She should have just worked through the pain and not relied on medicine to make her feel better. What if she made a bad decision. She'd have to live with guilt of knowing she treated that patient while not in her right mind.

"_I'm just like House," _the haunting thought poured in and around her mind. Suddenly she felt disgusting. She hated how House relied on his drugs so much. She hated that when he didn't have them, his decisions bordered the line of institutional level crazy. She didn't want to become like that. Hell, that's the last thing she wanted. But then again, if she continued the medicine she'd be able to remain level-headed at work.

By the time Cameron turned off the shower, she was feeling the full effect of her medicine and was enjoying every second of it. She hummed a soft melody as she walked back to her locker. There was still no one in the locker room as she opened her own locker and grabbed a spare set of clothes that were more comfortable for clinic work. Just as she was about to release the knot that held her towel together, she heard the door to the locker room open up. Quickly she grabbed the towel and slammed her locker door shut.

She stood there, hair dripping, clothed in only a wet towel and stared in the face of a very amused House. His eyes were large and he made it very noticeable that he was checking out her exposed legs.

" House what the hell are you doing in here!?" She yelled at him.

"Sorry, thought this was the little boys room," He replied calmly, still looking at her towel-clad body. He found himself wanting to rip the towel from her body and soaking in every part of her naked flesh.

"Well, it's not! Get out!" She shrieked. Any other time, she would've loved the attention, but not right now. She was becoming paranoid, unable to look him in the eyes. Her eyes were darting all over the locker room, everywhere except for where he was standing. Unconsciously she bit at the inside of her lip as she tried to think of how to escape this situation.

"Look at me." He commanded. His voice sent a tremor through her body but her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. House grumbled and quickly closed the gap between them before she could react. He grabbed her chin and forced her head up so that she was staring into his eyes. Cameron struggled to against his grip but he was too strong. The more she struggled, the tighter his grip became. And she eventually ceased her movement and looked helplessly up at him.

Much to his surprise, she didn't take long to heal under his power. He quite enjoyed the way she struggled against him and even more he enjoyed that she was so ready to succumb to his power. A devilish smile crossed his face as he stared into her desperate, pleading eyes. She made a small whimpering noise which caused him to loosen his grip just a little.

"Pupils dilated, nervous behavior, irrational anger - "

"Irrational anger!? Are you kidding? You barged into the WOMEN'S locker room and I'm supposed to be okay with that?" She shrieked, finally ripping her head from his grip. She rubbed her face and stretched her jaw waiting for House to reply.

"I was looking for something," he said. "And you'll be glad to know I found it," He said reassuringly. Something in his voice sent a wave of fear through Cameron.

"What did you find?" She stammered.

" Dilated pupils, nervous behavior, and irrational anger." He replied simply with a smug look on his face. Cameron sighed and sat down on the bench in front of the row of lockers. She buried her head in her hands trying not to explode.

"Then go." She spat at him. Instead of leaving House sat down next to her and rested his chin on the handle of his cane.

"What are you doing to yourself, Cameron?" He asked quietly House's voice was void of sarcasm. He turned to look at the beautiful young girl sitting next to him. Cameron thought about it for a minute. It was obvious there was no escape from situation. Sure she could run, but she's in a god damned towel. If she tried anything he could easily rip the towel from her body and as wonderful as it sounds, she couldn't have that happen. Not right now.

"I'm trying not to feel." She sounded despondent. House considered her response and gently laid his hand on her bare knee.

"Do you feel that?" He asked her. She looked at him and nodded. "What do you feel?" He continued.

"I feel you hand on my knee," she said, obviously confused by the question.

"That's not what I mean." He coaxed. Cameron's breathing started to speed up feeling his hand touch her bare flesh. He took his fingertips and slid them delicately along her inner thigh, rising up towards the point where her towel hid the rest of her legs. He stopped just before reaching the towel and gave her a gentle squeeze.

Cameron's leg twitched with anticipation and House watched as she drew in a sharp breath and lustfully closed her eyes. A beautiful reaction to his touch. Fighting the urge to keep moving his hand up, House moved his hand back down to her knee, wishing that she'd do something, anything, to let him know he could keep going.

"Cameron, tell me what's going on. I won't hurt you. You trust me with everything, but not this?" He questioned her. Feeling the sincerity in his voice Cameron grabbed both of his hands with hers.

"House, you don't need to know everything. There's nothing that you can do to help this." She begged him to understand. They were both turned, facing each other.

"And you base your conclusion on what logic?" He asked her, leaning in closer. His voice was soft and smooth.

" Because, House, everything to you is a puzzle. And I'm more than a little puzzle piece. You can't just decide one day that you want to fit everything together and the next day rip everything apart. You can't be like this with me and then turn around and make me feel like shit. I can't tell you because in reality, you don't care. You're pretending to care right now, to mask your own curiosity, but if I told you what was going on, the puzzle would be solved, I'd still be in pain, and you'd go on being the same asshole you always are." Cameron said to him.

She had to admit, it felt great to tell him this. She released his hands and moved away from him. She stood in front of her locker, her back facing him and she rested her forehead against the cool metal. Getting up was so hard. If things were different, she would've stayed there, just like that. Hell, she would've climb on top of him, ripped the towel off her damn self and let him have full access to her body. She would've let him take her, right there, not caring if anyone walked into the room. She wanted him so bad right now, her heart was aching.

She heard him stand up and in an instant, felt him behind her. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back into him. She fell into his grip and let her head fall back against him. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply as his hands stroked her sides. She wished that the heavy cotton towel wasn't separating them and she was so damn close to dropping it right there. House's hands rested on her hips and held her there.

He leaned his head down and blew gently on her ear, watching as the pleasure rippled through her body. He saw the goosebumps rise on the flesh of her shoulders and upper chest. Her back arched ever so slightly, but the grip his hands had on her hips held her tightly in place. The reactions her body had to him were intoxicating. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more and so he bent his head and placed soft kisses on her next, eyes open so he could see the pleasure he was inducing.

Cameron mewed and bent her neck to expose more of it to House. Her breathing was increasing and soon she wouldn't be able to keep her hands to herself. His lips on her skin ignited a fire within her. She became aware of the sensation throbbing just above her womanhood. As he continued kissing her, she felt herself becoming wet and let out a small moan.

"House," she whispered. He watched as her body began rocking rhythmically. He felt her knee buckle, but still, he held her in place.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked seductively between kisses.

"No, but - " her sentence was cut off and turned to a little moan because House began nibbling on her neck. House removed his left hand from her hip and ran his hand through her wet hair. He wanted to own her, to throw her up against the locker and ram his cock hard into her dripping pussy. He was getting horny and if he didn't stop now, he probably wouldn't be able to. With an almost inaudible grunt he grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head down to the left. Immediately as he did so, his mouth found the tender muscle of her shoulder and bit down.

Cameron's moan was loud and echoed off the walls of the empty walls of the locker room. Uncontrollably, her knees buckled but House kept her from falling as he sucked on her flesh. She was moaning lightly with every breath now and House spun her around, and pushed her back against the lockers. Lust-driven, Cameron reached out and grabbed him by the belt and pulled him into her. His hands banged against the lockers on both sides of her head. They were both breathing heavy, staring into each others eyes. Cameron grabbed his face and pulled it towards hers. She took control of the kiss, it was wild, filled with lust and desire.

House allowed her to lead the kiss, enjoying the fact that she wanted to take control, just as much as she wanted it taken from her. His throbbing member was pressing against his jeans, aching to be released from the denim prison. Their tongues danced wildly, exploring each others mouths, not even stopping for air. When Cameron finally broke the kiss, she pulled back and stared at him with such desire it was almost unbearable House took his hand and slowly went to remove the only thing holding her towel to her body. He rested his hand on top of the knot and looked at Cameron for approval before he undid it. She nodded, and that's all he needed.

A loud beeping noise echoed through the locker room which caused House and Cameron to freeze.

"No, god dammit, no!" He breathed in frustration. With an exasperated sigh, he reached down in his pocket and retrieved his beeper and looked at it with utter annoyance. He stuffed it back into his pocket and stepped away from Cameron. "I have to go he said."

Without another word, House rushed out of the locker room, leaving am extremely confused and horny Cameron alone. Once he was sure that Cameron wasn't following him, he looked down at the hand that had been pulling on her hair and saw a few strands still entangled in his fingers. He smiled wickedly and turned off towards the lab.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: I do not own any of the characters. I just like to play with them. Please leave some reviews if you like (or don't like) the story. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

God damn that Gregory House. Not only had he left Cameron hot, horny, and totally bewildered, he'd also made her late for clinic duty. Needless to say, Cuddy wasn't pleased when a disheveled Cameron ran into the clinic apologizing over and over for being late. The clinic was particularly busy this evening which was a good thing, and a bad one. It was good because it didn't allow Cameron much time to replay those heated moments in the locker room. Bad because she wanted to replay those moments.

Every minute Cameron spent without a patient, she spent thinking about House. She felt like an open book; like that every person who looked at her could see the aching desire oozing from her pores. But she couldn't help it. The mere thought of him made her blush which in turn brought a smile to her face. He tried to hide his feelings from her, and Cameron knew that it was only a matter of time before he couldn't repress them. She'd know for months that he had feelings for her, she could tell by the little gestures that he made. At first, she couldn't believe it. It seemed all too fairy tale to be real. But this proved it. He wanted her, needed her, he had feelings for her. After waiting so long for it, she finally had her answers. And now that she did, she wanted nothing more than to steal him from the world, lock him up in her house, and keep him forever.

Cameron made up her mind. After her clinic duty, she was going to find House, finish what they started and then talk relationship. She swore to herself that she'd make him feel. She'd find that little part of his heart that still had some humanity and she'd fill it with her love until he would feel safe enough to let everything go and just be with her. She wouldn't crush him like that bitch Stacey did. She smiled at the thought and entered exam room two which had a middle aged woman complaining of chronic headaches and fatigue.

* * *

House, who was still horny and thinking of pounding the hell out of Cameron was limping his way down the the lab, when a thought crossed his mind. He double backed cracked the door to Wilson's office, just enough to poke his head through. Wilson looked up from his desk to see a smiling House standing at his door. Confused by the sight in front of him, Wilson raised his eyebrow in question.

"I'm not sure why you're smiling but I swear I didn't dose your coffee with amphetamines again," Wilson spoke to him.

House nodded his head. "I know," he replied, still with a ridiculous smile on his face.

"Okay...then what gives?" Wilson asked slowly.

"She's not done with me yet." House confirmed and then shut door so that Wilson couldn't ask anymore questions. Now, with gloating out of the way, he could get down to the lab and run his tests. When he arrived there, Chase and Foreman were arguing about the inconclusive results of the blood test they'd just ran on their current patient. House ignored them seeing as how he had a much more important agenda.

Both Chase and Foreman watched him come into the room, look at them, and then go about his business without so much as a condescending look or sarcastic remark. They looked at each other and, like the synchronized team they've grown to be, marched together to the corner of the lab where House was preparing some instruments.

"Sorry, boys. I'm busy." House said without looking at them. Chase scoffed at his remark.

"Busy with what?" He asked folding his arms in front of his chest with that smug aussie look he wore too often.

"Work," House responded in an unusually polite voice. Foreman watched as House prepared some measurements then noticed the little bag with a few strands of hair in it.

"House, we already did a tox screen on the patient, it was clean," Foreman insisted. House made a sound of annoyance.

"I know," he emphasized.

"So then why are you doing it again?" Chase inquired.

"Are you guys interrogating me?" House deflected.

"No, we just want to know why you're running a test that we've already run and that came up negative for any drugs." Chase said to him.

"Just making sure you two idiots didn't screw it up," House sneered. "Don't you guys have something better to do than sit over my shoulder. Movies? Or maybe dinner at La Fontaine Bleu?" House asked, clearly indicating that the conversation was officially over. Chase and Foreman looked at each, shrugged, and walked away.

Once House was sure they'd both left the lab, he took the few strands of Cameron's hair and placed them in a vial filled with Enzyme-immunoassay antibodies. He swirled the vial delicately in small clockwise circles and watched it carefully. After counting thirty rotations, House used a small dropper to suck some of the liquid into it and carefully squeezed one drop onto a test strip. While he waited for the results to show, House found himself thinking of the erotic encounter with Cameron in the locker room. He never wanted it to go that far. The original plan was to just pluck a strand or two from her head and call it a day. But seeing her dripping wet in nothing but a towel, everything went to hell.

Part of him was curious about just how far she would have gone if his pager hadn't gone off. But in the end, he was glad it did before something happened that they'd both end up regretting. He couldn't deny that he didn't want her, but he knew how she felt about him. And all she was to him was his employee. His extremely hot, submissive, intelligent employee. Damn, if only she didn't have feelings for him. Then he wouldn't have felt guilty about screwing with her head like that. If she didn't have feelings for him, maybe they could have a causal relationship so he wouldn't have to spend so much money on uninteresting hookers.

The timer went off which broke House's train of thought and he pulled the test results from the printer, looking over them with much interest. After reading the results, he sighed, folded the paper and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. House cleaned up the equipment and placed everything in it's appropriate place. Although his own apartment was a huge, disorganized mess, he preferred the lab to remain in proper order. Call it a pet peeve. He disposed of any further evidence and left the lab.

Her results were curious. Things were finally starting to come together. But one question remained. Why? What could possibly bring her to do this to herself. Was she really that miserable working with him? Or was there something else going on? What really surprised him was her ability to keep all of this from him. He was too good at reading people and Cameron made it especially easy. She was an open book, she'd always been that way. And now she's a mysterious, horny junkie. _"She's turning into me,"_ he thought to himself.

Which brought him to question whether this was his fault. Did she idealize him so much so that she felt the need develop an addiction problem? Did she really think that he would look at her any differently once he found out she was doped up? But what if it wasn't her wanting to be like him. What if she wanted to escape from him? After all, drugs are meant to be an escape from reality. Questions were swarming in his head like a hoard of angry hornets. And similar to hornets, some of them stung.

House went back to his office and sat down behind his desk. He propped his legs up and pulled the lab results from his pocket and scanned them with his eyes over and over again, hoping that the answers to his questions would appear. But he had no luck. It was driving him mad. Mad to the point that he was ready to go down to the clinic and scream at her in front of everyone. But his better judgment told him that there was a much more...appealing way to handle the situation. One that just might relieve the ache he'd been feeling his groin since earlier that day.

And so he waited patiently in his office, playing his PSP. He knew that as soon as she got done at the clinic she'd come running to his office, anxious to continue the activities they'd started. Hell, she'd probably come walking in the door ready to pounce on him then and there, which he wouldn't mind, or she'd come walking in the door begging him to do the pouncing which he also wouldn't mind. Either way, he was going to get everything he wanted, and she...well she'd at least get one thing she wanted.

* * *

The clock in the clinic seemed to move excruciatingly slow as she waited for the last ten minutes of her shift to be over. The clinic closed at 9pm so most of the patients had already been released and all she had to do now was wait, and hope that another patient didn't walk through the doors. As soon as the clock turned to 9, Cameron clocked out and prepared herself for her next encounter with House. She was so ready to see him again, it's all she'd been able to think about for the past four hours but now all of her confidence had turned into apprehension. She began to fear that he would act as if nothing happened between them and go back to his cold, selfish ways. But she couldn't turn back now. Not without an answer.

Cameron stepped off the elevator and breathed deeply before she set off to House's office. The lights were still on so she knew he was there. When she got to his door, she saw him completely engrossed in his PSP and she quietly pushed the door open. His eyes rose up from the game and as soon as he saw her, he set the game down on the table and watcher her as she approached him. Unsure of how to proceed, Cameron walked in and sat at the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Hi," She said stupidly and smiled at him.

"I think we've passed the point of greeting each other with needless pleasantries," He said to her. She was stiff but she forced a little laugh and looked down at the floor.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," She agreed. House took his feet from the desk and placed them on the floor. He leaned across the desk and looked into her eyes.

"Cameron, there's something we need to talk about," He said to her. Butterflies were flapping around in her stomach. She readjusted her seated position, barely able to contain herself.

"Yeah, I think you're right." Cameron agreed with him again.

"Good. So should I come right out with it or give you a chance to explain?" He inquired of her. So this is it. It was now or never. She waited a few seconds, biting at the inside of her cheek. She knew that no matter what happened after this, everything would be different. What she was about to say was going to push them past the point of no return.

"House, what happened between us earlier...I um, well, god I don't know how to say this," She trailed off. She felt like a complete ass. This was her chance and she was already screwing it up.

"It was hot, sexual charged, and you want more. Yeah, yeah, yeah, get to the part I want to hear about," He snapped at her. Cameron was taken aback by his sudden cruelty and she struggled to find the words to say.

"I thought this is what you wanted to hear about?" she questioned. Cameron felt the familiar burn in the back of her throat that manifested when she was about to cry. "And I do want more," she added quickly at the end. House smiled a little. She had no idea that he knew about her little secret.

"No, I want to hear about the good stuff. You know, the stuff you seek so desperately to hide." He said with little emotion in his voice. Cameron's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. She shook her head incredulously and stood up from her seated position. Tears were threatening to flow from her eyes at any second.

"House I don't know what you're talking about!" She yelled at him. "Do you want to hear me say that I want to fuck you hard, all night, every night? Do you want to hear about how hot you make me, how there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about you and how you are the last thing on my mind and night and the first thing on my mind in the morning. Do you want to hear that I would literally do anything for you!?" She yelled exasperated. This isn't the way she wanted to have this conversation. Something told her to stop now. Stop before things got even worse. House stood up and grabbed the paper with her test results off his desk. He looked down at it and sighed before limping over to her, looking into her watering eyes.

"No. I want to hear about this." He spat and shoved the paper into her hands. He waited patiently while she processed the information in front of her.

Cameron looked down at the piece of paper suspiciously. It was a drug screening. Scratch that, it was _her_ drug screen. And right there, in black and white, positive for THC and Morphine Sulfate. When she saw it, the tears poured from her eyes and she looked up at House with the most hurt and betrayed face he had ever seen.

"How the hell did you get this!?" She screamed at him. He took the paper back, folded it up and put it back in his pocket.

"You gave it to me," He told her with disinterest.

"The hell I did!"

"Okay, well, I took it, but you didn't stop me so that's just as good as giving it to me." He reasoned.

And then it hit her. She was so caught up in the heat of the moment she let her guard down. For once in her life she assumed that House was doing something he wanted without an ulterior motive. She couldn't believe it. She'd been such a fool. She should have known better.

"You sick, lying, conniving bastard! You just couldn't accept not knowing something about me. You're nothing more than a sadistic son of a bitch. You came on to me knowing that I wouldn't turn you down just to get a few strands of my hair!?" Cameron quickly concluded. Her world was spinning so fast. She felt dizzy and nauseous, among so many other things. She looked at him, praying to god that it wasn't true. House was an asshole, but he wouldn't go that far. He couldn't do that to her.

"Thanks for playing," He sneered.


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: I do not own any of these characters. I just like to play with them. Please leave a review if you like (or don't like the story). Thanks for reading!**

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"Consider this my two weeks notice," Cameron whispered. Her throat felt like it was ready to burst and he eyes were tearing uncontrollably.. House wondered how many tears could fall from her eyes before they refused to wet anymore.

"You're not quitting," he replied coolly. Raising his hand to her face, he used his knuckle to wipe away the tears from cheek. Automatically, Cameron slapped his hand down and turned away from him.

"Don't you dare touch me," she spoke flatly. "My decision remains, two more weeks, from today, then I'm gone." House snickered at her comment.

"And my decision remains, you're not quitting." He told her again. Exasperated, Cameron turned to face him, eyes red and swollen and face flushed.

"For what House? Why do you want to keep me? I'm a pathetic junkie, you don't need two of them working in the same office." She spat, staring at his eyes.

"Well, for one, you're incredibly annoying and over-sensitive but you're a good doctor. Secondly, there's something more than what you're letting on. And finally, who else would hire a doctor that's been under my direction who also happens to have a drug problem?" House said to her adding a little extra sarcasm on the third point. Cameron scoffed at his comment.

"So that's it? You want me to stay because you're not done dissecting my personal life and if you don't find the answer then you'll make it so I'll never get another job?" Cameron questioned with rage flowing through every muscle in body.

House turned away from her and walked back to the chair behind his desk. He lowered himself in it and pulled a bottle of pills from one of the drawers. After swallowing two Vicodin he studied her for a few seconds before motioning for her to sit in the chair next to him. Against her better judgment, she complied with his wishes, feeling vacant and lifeless.

"Don't act so surprised Cameron," House teased. She just shook her head, crossed her arms, and looked at the opposite side of the room. She couldn't take looking at him right now. Never in her life did she think he would put her in this situation. She was outraged, hurt beyond all possibly recognition, and totally numb.

"Yeah, you're right, it's my fault that I care for you so much that I don't want to burden you with my problems. And because I care so much it's my fault that you stole my hair. Oh, yeah and it's my fault that YOU went to the lab by yourself, without MY consent and ran a drug screen. Yeah, that's all my fault. If you're regretting your decision, you can live with that. Don't you dare make this out to be my fault." She scorned him.

"It is your fault that this happened. Taking drugs is a cry for help. When I was there to help, you told me no. How else am I supposed to help you if you're too stubborn. It came to this because you care." House yelled. Every word pierced Cameron's heart. Every word hurt. And it hurt because it was true. If she hadn't let her feelings towards House cloud her better judgment, she could have avoided this situation.

"Why do you even want to help. You don't care about anyone or anything other than yourself. Now all of the sudden you care about my life? Please, House, don't lie to me anymore. You don't care about me, or what happens to me. The only reason you care is because you're obsessed with figuring things out, it's like a sick addiction. You see something that intrigues you and you have to pick it apart until you know every little detail. Then once you know, you throw it in the trash with all of your other little games that you've already finished." Cameron insisted. The tears had dried and her voice was returning to normal. Finally the numbness of his betrayal was finally consuming her brain and her body. House sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Cameron, there's something that you need to understand. We all care. Shocking, isn't it? As much as people think I don't care, I do. The difference is you care and make it apparent. You don't have a problem showing that you care. I care, but I can't show it." House confessed to her. He didn't know why he'd just divulged that information. He shouldn't have. As much as he told himself he didn't care that he'd betrayed her, and hurt her , even more than he ever had. But a pricking sensation in his gut told him differently.

"So...all of this, because you care!?" She shrieked, ready to rip her hair out. "Jesus House why couldn't you just say it!?" She looked at him almost wanting to smile.

"Because, then things would get weird." House replied to her. Cameron just started laughing. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So then let them get weird, House. Let yourself feel. Just because you feel, doesn't mean it's a bad thing!" She told him.

"No, but it causes conflict. If something happened to you while doing something under my direction, I couldn't forgive myself. If I have that on my mind every time I have to send you, aussie, and homey to do something, I'll always keep you from the danger," House admitted to her. For once in his life, he was being completely honest with her.

"I don't need a guardian or a babysitter. I don't need someone to protect me from the world, House. You couldn't say that you care because things will get weird, but you don't think they'll be weird now, after all of this?" She asked him, looking into his mesmerizing blue eyes. House sighed.

"Yeah. I guess it will." He responded, staring off into space.

"I hope it was worth it," She told him and then got up and walked towards the door. House knew she was leaving but he didn't look at her.

"We're not done here yet," He spoke, still not looking at her.

"There's nothing more to say," Cameron lied.

"I just told you that I care about you. A secret for a secret. Why are you doing the drugs. You tell me, and I'll leave it alone." House offered. Cameron stopped in front of the door and turned around to look at him, leaning back in his chair. Still with a smug look plastered on his face.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" She asked.

"Not about things I care for," He responded. Cameron took a moment to respond, unsure if she should tell him the truth or not. She was so sick of never knowing if she should lie to him or tell him the truth. In the end, didn't it matter? He'd think she was lying anyway.

"Because of you," she answered and without hesitation, walked out of the office, and didn't look back.

House was left with the shittiest feeling he'd ever felt. Everything he did, he did for her. Because he cared. And his payback is this? Driving the girl that he wanted nothing more than to protect, to take drugs. He slammed his fist down on his desk, seeking a way to alleviate the pain resounding in his chest. Two more Vicodin, and another half hour in the dark, consumed with misery, House still didn't have any relief from the foreign pain invading his heart.

Now he understood her pain. The pain of watching someone you care for suffer. He couldn't understand how she lived with it everyday. How could she concentrate on anything with so much clouding her brain. He needed to see her. He needed to set things straight. Instinctively he grabbed his keys ready to drive over to her house and make things right. He hesitated for a moment, feeling for his phone in his pockets, thinking that calling her might be better. House opened up the address book and scrolled down until he reached Cameron's name and pressed the call button, pacing back and forth while waiting to hear her voice in his ear. The phone rang three times before she picked up.

"Who the hell are you?" a mans voice demanded. Startled, House took a few seconds to respond. In the background he could hear a females voice, but couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Put Cameron on the phone," he demanded simply, unsure of what else to say. She had only left him a half hour ago, who the hell was this person picking up her phone.

"Oh, you mean Allison," the voice said again. House could hear the woman speaking again, demanding for the man to hand her the phone. It was Cameron's voice. She sounded desperate. "Back off bitch," the voice yelled in response to Cameron's plea. There was so racket which sounded like chairs sliding along a hard surface. "Sorry, Allison can't come to the phone right now." the voice finally said.

"There's an emergency, I need to speak with her," House said trying to remain calm. His blood was boiling knowing that Cameron was with some other man.

"Hey bitch, the guy said it's an emergency." the voice said to her.

"Let me speak with him, that's my boss!" Cameron's faint voice begged. She sounded funny, her words were slow and slurred. The mans laughter echoed through the phone.

"Listen, boss. She can't come to the phone. She's a little...tied up at the moment. Don't worry, she'll be in one piece Monday for work." the mysterious voice taunted.

"Please, just give me the phone." Cameron's faint voice sounded again. And then there was silence. The called had been disconnected. House threw the phone against the wall, shattering it into a couple of large pieces and stormed out of his office.

How dare she do this to him. If that's how she wants to play, fine. She'll be sorry. House was so angry, he had to take a few moments sitting in his car before he was able to drive. Once his vision had been cleared enough, he drove home, popped a few Vicodin and lay in bed, refusing to think about her anymore. But sleep evaded him. And after two hours of tossing and turning, House knew that he'd get no rest until this bitch heard every last word he wanted to say. And spring out of bed, as fast as a cripple could, got dressed, and once more got into his car, driving directly for Cameron's house.


	8. Chapter 8

On the way to Cameron's quaint residence, House tried to rationalize the alien feelings exploding in his head. He didn't like it, every nerve was on fire, every thought branched into a dozen others, and every 'what if' scenario evoked new feelings. Remaining calm on the drive over was becoming exceptionally difficult. The drive, which should have only taken ten minutes, was taking much longer. House couldn't help but feel that there was some omniscient force trying to keep him from getting to her. He caught every single red light which really ticked him off seeing as there was hardly any traffic at this time of night. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently and, out of habit, popped two more Vicodin.

He couldn't control the thoughts and feelings running through his head. Was he mad? Hell yeah he was mad. She'd spent so much time and energy wanting him and when he finally opened up to her, she turns around and betrays him. He was more than mad, he was furious. He wished more than anything that he could be just mad, it would make things so much easier. But there was something more to what he was feeling. Something that bordered fear. Not the fear that he was accustomed to when making life-altering medical decisions. This fear was something different. Cameron wasn't just a patient, she was someone who he'd finally allowed himself to care for. This fear was irrationally focused on an enigmatic woman, who, above all others, cared for him more than he deserved. House was prepared to blame himself for whatever happened tonight, good or bad. He reminded himself again that he wasn't supposed to let her walk out of his office earlier that evening. But should he have expected anything less? After what he'd done to her, did he really believe that she would have wanted to stay? How could she even bear to look him in the face? The real question was, would he have stayed if someone betrayed him in such the way that he did to her? The answer was no. He wouldn't have stayed and he sure as hell wouldn't forgive. House only prayed that it wasn't too late to earn her forgiveness.

As he approached her place, he noticed all the lights were off and hers was the only car in the driveway. House took a deep breath before exiting his car and then set off down the path of her sidewalk. He sneaked, as stealthily as a cripple could, up to her front door, careful not to make any sounds. His vain attempt to catch a glimpse of her through the windows was fruitless, it was far too dark to make out anything inside her home. He thought about calling her phone again but decided against it. If, by chance, someone else was still in there, he'd need an advantage. Normally, he used his intelligence as an advantage but in this particular situation, his intelligence wouldn't fare too well against a physical attack. Hell, he was a cripple, so brute strength was off the table as well. House knew his best option was the element of surprise.

Dropping the phone back into his pocket, House then reached for the brass door handle and twisted it gently. It was locked, not like he expected anything else. He scowled in annoyance and immediately began lifting the flower pots that littered her little porch, searching for a spare key. By the time he'd reached the third pot, he finally located the key. Noticing the flowers in that particular pot, he knew he should've looked there first. All the other pots held bundles of marigolds and pansies. But in this pot, grew the most beautiful arrangement of Asiatic Lily's he'd ever seen He smiled because their beauty and delicacy reminded him of her. Pure, fair, and full of life. But this was not the time to be making metaphors about Cameron's beauty.

The key slid easily into the lock and he slowly turned the door handle. He crossed the threshold into her house and quietly closed the door behind him. Consumed by the darkness of her home, House started blindly groping along the wall in search of a light switch. He tried to remember the layout of her home, he'd only been inside two or three times and each time was only for a brief moment. House found himself reminiscing about the first time he'd been in her home. It was the night of their date Cameron was beautiful that night and it was almost unbelievable that a beautiful young woman such as herself was on a very public date with a cold, pill-popping cripple at least 15 years her senior. God how he'd screwed that up.

Finally his nimble fingers found the light switch, he flicked it on, squinting for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the flood of light. What he saw when he finally opened his eyes wiped away all of his previous thoughts and feelings.

Cameron was sitting in a recliner, knees pulled to her chest, in the corner of the living room. She was wrapped in a large blanket, staring straight ahead. Her eyes were wide with fear, her complexion was pale and her lips were parted slightly. It was as if she was in a trance, oblivious to everything around her. House rushed over and dropped to the floor in front of her.

"Cameron!" He spoke in desperation. "Cameron, can you hear me? What's wrong? His voice was urgent, but she didn't move. Not even a blink, twitch, or flinch. Mechanically, House pressed his pointer and middle finger on her jugular, feeling for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He silently thanked whatever deity was still around to listen to him. He grabbed her face with his hands and forced her to look at him. Her pupils were dilated and her skin felt clammy.

"Cameron, I need you to blink once if you can hear me," he pleaded. A few seconds went by and she finally blinked. House breathed another sigh of relief.

"Okay, good. Stay with me, Cam. Do you know who I am?" House asked. She was still staring straight ahead. Although his eyes were focused on her's, she didn't seem to register anything. It was like he was naught but a ghost to her. "Cameron, do you know who I am?" he asked again, gently shaking her. He watched her pupils shrink slightly as she finally focused on him. She nodded her head slowly.

"Good. I need you to tell me what's wrong. I need to know so I can help you," House urged her. His eyes were scanning her face rapidly, searching for any signs of what might be causing her to act like this. Slowly, without moving her head, her eyes moved down to the left. House followed her gaze and spotted small brown tincture bottle on the floor. He picked up the empty bottle and brought it to his nose. It smelled of alcohol and marijuana. House pocketed the bottle and looked back at her.

"We need to get you out of here, can you walk?" He asked. Tears were forming in her eyes as she shook her head. "Cameron, I need you to do this. I can't carry you out," House told her. He tried to suppress the anger within him, knowing that the most important thing was getting her help. Then, once she was better, he could berate her as much as he felt was necessary. House stood up and move to the side of her chair, burying his arm under her left and forcing her to lean forward. He watched as she winced in pain but continued forcing her up until she was in a seated position. From there, he urged her to stand up, allowing her to use him as an anchor and ignoring the searing pain in his leg caused by her weight.

Once she was up, he wrapped his arm around her waist and together they made their way slowly towards the door. The blanket was still wrapped tightly around her body, which was probably a good thing given the chilly night they'd stepped into. House carefully shut and locked the door before leading her down the sidewalk. He noticed that Cameron was becoming more aware and alert as they proceeded towards his car. And by the time they'd reached his car, Cameron wasn't leaning as much on him but he still didn't let her go. House gently lowered her into the passenger seat of his car and stuffed her blanket inside before closing the door. He limed around to the drivers side of the car and within a minute, Cameron's house was nothing but an image in his rear view mirror.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," House informed her. He looked over at her, curious to see her reaction but found that, much like earlier, Cameron's eyes were staring straight forward. But then she turned her head towards him, placed a hand over his, and looked directly into his eyes.

"No," she whispered. They stopped at a red light and House looked back at her.

"You need medical attention," he insisted. Much to his surprise, her mouth formed a barely noticeable smile.

"I have a doctor right here," she said. Her voice was slow and lucid. House knew she was high so he tried his damnedest not to acknowledge the hint of desire in her voice. He sighed.

"Fine," he said and made a right hand turn instead of continuing straight through the light. She squeezed his hand gently and whispered a thank you. "But you have to do something for me." House continued.

"Anything," Cameron breathed while taking her index finger and tracing it along his jawline. House swallowed hard and with much difficulty, pulled her hand from his face and placed it back into her own lap. She frowned in disappointment.

"We'll go to my place and you can sleep this off on my couch. But you're going to tell me everything. You're going to tell me about the drugs, about the pain, about the guy you were with...everything." He demanded. Cameron thought about his conditions and apprehensively agreed.

"Fine. I'll tell you everything. But, House, please, for once in your life, please keep this between you and I," she begged. House let out a sigh, preparing himself for the worst. He knew that if the situation had no gravity to it, she wouldn't have asked him to keep silent. He didn't want to promise her. He didn't want that responsibility.

"Cameron, I can't - "

"Promise me, House," she pleaded. One look into her crystallized eyes and he couldn't help but agree to her terms. He hated the way she looked right now. Like her light had been stolen and all that was left was a hollow shell of the Cameron he knew.

"Okay," he sighed, knowing that he'd probably regret it. House didn't like keeping secrets. Secrets made the world go 'round and he was particularly fond of them because that's how he manipulated the people around him. He'd find out something they didn't want anyone to know and use it to blackmail them to do his bidding. Then just to be an ass, he'd spill the beans anyway.

The remaining duration of the car ride was quiet, almost unbearably so. He wanted to say something to her but knew that he'd say the wrong thing, or that it would come out the wrong way and he was determined to not let that happen. She needed him right now. Maybe more than she'd ever needed him. He wasn't going to screw up again. As his mind filtered all the possible things she was going to tell him, House found himself pulling up in front of his apartment, unable to remember taking the turns that led him there.

House helped her out of the car and allowed her to lean on him as they made their way to his door on the left. He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights with finesse and led her into his modern-furnished apartment. The first thing Cameron noticed was the beautiful black piano in the corner. She hadn't taken him for one to play the piano but it was oddly fitting. Perhaps it was the music that soothed the savage beast. She noticed the three guitars hanging on the wall behind the piano. She smiled and thought that was more appropriate for him than the piano.

House placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the couch. He suddenly became aware of the disarray that his apartment was in. Hoping that she didn't see it, he cleared the ashtray and various magazines from the coffee table. House wasn't sure why he'd done it. If she had been anyone else, he would've left it all sitting there without a second thought. He shook his head, hating the fact that she actually made him care about things he normally didn't give a shit about. Some part inside of him felt like he needed to impress her, like he needed to hide all the things she would consider a flaw. God, how he hated what she was doing to him.

As a gentleman would, he fetched two glasses of water from the kitchen before making his way back to her. She looked pleased by his gesture and greedily sucked down the ice cold water. She was slightly embarrassed by her sudden savagery but House offered her a little smile, reassuring her that she didn't need to be ashamed of anything.

"So, where would you like to start?" House questioned her. Truth be told, she didn't want to start anywhere. She wanted to enjoy the moment she was in. Alone, with the man she so desperately wanted, in his own home. She could think of nothing more wonderful than that. It helped her to block out the images running through her head.

"The bathroom," she said, choosing to ignore the true context of his question. He sighed in irritation, helped her up from the couch and led her down the hallway to the bathroom.

"You have two minutes," he said to her. "And I know the sound of my Vicodin bottle so don't even think about it," House warned her. She flashed him a devious little smile and shut the door in his face. House didn't want to wait outside the bathroom door for her, she needed a little privacy so he limped into his room and changed out of his jeans into a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt. Giving her an extra minute, House sat down at the foot of his bed and slowly massaged his leg. The pain was beginning to dull now that he wasn't standing on it, but not enough. He popped another Vicodin and decided it was time to fetch Cameron from the bathroom.

But he didn't need to. When he looked up, there she was, standing in his doorway with a blanket still wrapped around her. House licked his lips when he saw the fiery look in her eyes. She stood there, the object of his desire, staring intently at him with a smirk on her face.

"Cameron, don't," House said, looking away from her. She smiled wider and started walking towards him. When she was near enough she placed her hands on his knees, forcing his legs wider so that she could get closer to him.

"Stop resisting. Just let yourself feel pleasure for once," she whispered into his ear. House let out a breath against her neck. He wanted to, so badly. But not like this. She wasn't sober and normally that wouldn't bother him, but he couldn't do this to her. He'd already hurt and betrayed her. He couldn't imagine what she would think if he took advantage of her while she was high.

House's hands grabbed her by the waist and forced her onto the bed. She was lying there on her back, when he noticed the tears forming in her eyes. Unsure of what to do, House removed his hands from her and opened his mouth to say something. But no words came out. She squinted against the pain but eventually it became to much. She groaned and wrapped her arms around her ribs and rolled away from House. She didn't want him to see her like this again, once was definitely enough.

House gently rolled her back so that she was lying flat on her back. He looked into her eyes that had become flooded with tears. Careful not to hurt her, he unwrapped the blanket from around her body. The white beater she was wearing was freshly stained red right around her ribs. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt, ready to lift it up to see the wounds that awaited him, when again she stopped him.

"Let go of my hand, Cameron." He demanded with little patience. She shook her head, not wanting him to see what horrors lie beneath her clothing. She struggled against him for a moment which only made the searing pain worsen. Finally, giving up, House removed his hands and waited for Cameron to calm down. Once she did and finally closed her eyes to deal with the pain, he grabbed the frail beater and ripped it open, exposing her small body to him.

House stared for a few seconds, shocked by the sight in front of him. "Oh god," he whispered aloud. The skin around her ribs, and stomach were badly bruised. There were fresh cuts all along her midsection that hadn't been tended to. Blood was seeping from each of the at least half of a dozen cuts. The sight was horrible but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. Then he suddenly became infuriated. He swore to himself that he'd find out who did this to her. And he'd kill him.


	9. Chapter 9

With much difficulty, House removed his eyes from her mangled body and limped as quickly as possible into the bathroom. He grabbed a stash of medical supplies and returned to her side. Seeing her like this, in so much pain...it killed him. Her beautiful skin marred by some unknown adversary. Of all the possible scenarios running through his head, this was not one of them. The reality of it was almost too much to bear. She never deserved this. Cameron was far too caring and nice. And now that she's been robbed of so much, House wondered if she'd ever trust him enough to make things right.

He sat down on the bed next to her and started unwrapping some of his supplies. He had alcohol, bandages, and disinfectant. She watched expert hands open all of the supplies and smiled a little. House noticed and gave her a questioning look.

"I like watching you work," she said quietly. He smiled at her but then continued prepping the supplies.

"This will probably hurt…a lot," House prepared her for the stinging pain of the alcohol. Cameron nodded and looked into his eyes. He looked back at her for a few seconds before diverting his attention to his wounds. The second he touched the first cut her body tensed in pain. But she didn't make a sound. Curiously, he looked at her and found her eyes still fixated on his face. He knew she was drawing all her willpower from him, using him in a way he never thought she would. House was happy to oblige and looked into her eyes while he gently patted the wounds.

"You don't make it hurt so badly," Cameron admitted. House wasn't sure what to say. He could've said thank you, but he was fairly certain she wasn't really offering a compliment. He resigned himself to just say nothing and continue his work on her abused body. The bruises were at various stages of healing. Some were very new, some looked to be at least a week old. House bandaged the first cut and moved on to the next. As he reached across her, she felt her inhale a breath sharply. He stopped and scanned over her body again. Just visible above the top of her sweat pants was the beginning of another deep cut.

He sighed and dropped the alcohol pad into a sterile tray and looked at her sympathetically. She turned away from him, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes. Gently, he grabbed the top of her sweat pants and shimmied them down, over her ass and to her knees. More gashes along her hipbones and bruises all along her inner thighs.

"I'm sorry," she said out loud. Cameron wasn't looking at him, he wasn't even sure that she was talking to him. But he soon found out that she was because she tilted her head towards him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said simply.

"Then why do I feel like I do?" she asked. House simply shrugged and continued to methodically clean her wounds. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to concentrate on taking care of her. Every time he touched her, her body trembled and her flesh produced goose bumps. He watched a few times as she closed her eyes when his hands met her soft skin. House tried to ignore her full breasts urging him to release them from their black lacy prison. He swallowed hard and looked away. If it wasn't her perfectly round tits, it was her cute black boy-shorts that covered her sweet spot. How he wanted to just run one finger over-top her folds, just to watch her gasp and arch her back. She was truly intoxicating when aroused. Treating the cuts on her hips was probably the hardest part. They extended below the line of her panties so he had to pull them down slightly as well. The beast in him told him to just rip them off and give praise to her body right then and there, but he knew that she was in too much of a delicate state for that. For once, House was glad he didn't let her come onto him. He needed her to trust him and if it took resisting his every instinct, that's what he would do.

"How long has this been going on?" He asked her. He needed to distract his mind from her flesh.

"About a month," she confessed. "But it was never like this." He looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "I started seeing this guy, Damon, about a month ago. He liked to be rough…you know. I liked it too but then it started getting to be too much."

"Is that who answered the phone?" House asked intensely. Cameron nodded. "Who is he?" House demanded.

"I met him at a bar. He seemed nice enough, a little dangerous, a little mysterious, and really smart." Cameron told him.

"Why did you start seeing him?" House insisted. He didn't like the answers she was giving. But he needed to know.

"Because the man I wanted to see told me to stop deluding myself with fantasies that would never be a reality," she told him, looking him in the eye. He looked away from her, refusing to see the pain of his words in her eyes.

"That man's an idiot," House admitted while wrapping more bandages around her. She chuckled at his comment.

"I never thought so, but what was I supposed to do House? I made myself miserable for you. How long did you think I would do that? How long did you think I would be miserable because you wouldn't allow yourself to be happy. You were right. I needed to move on." Cameron spoke to him.

"And have you?" He asked with great interest. She shook her head. He was relieved to hear that. "And the drugs?" he inquired.

"It was never my idea. The first time Damon told me it would enhance the pleasure. I didn't like it. But he started forcing me to take it. Even injected me with it. He liked it because it made me complacent, so that I couldn't fight back or argue. That's when it got bad. He beat me, threw me around, and I couldn't stop it," Cameron was reliving some of the worst nights of her life. House listened to every word she said. He was just finishing applying the last bandage to her and he tossed all the use supplies in the trash can next to his bed.

"What happened tonight?" He wanted to know.

"I was late. He forced me to take the whole bottle. After you called, he got angry. More angry than I'd ever seen him. Tonight was the first night he'd ever cut me and I couldn't move. I just cried and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. Then he stopped, looked at his watch, and ran out the back door." Cameron explained.

There was one question hanging around in House's mind. He needed the answer but wasn't sure if he could handle it. If the answer was no, he would be okay. But if the answer was yes, he'd probably lose it. Sometimes ignorance is bliss and yet he never knew bliss could be this painful.

"Did he rape you?" He finally asked. His blue eyes looked at her, praying that the answer was no.

"No, but if he hadn't left, he probably would have," Cameron said. She sounded terrible. Lifeless and just all around destroyed. Still, House breathed a sigh of relief.

"This is all my fault," he said and buried his head in his hands. Struggling against the pain, Cameron sat up and wrapped her arms around him. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and shook her head.

"I never blamed you," she whispered to him. House ignored her comment. Nothing she said was going to make him feel any different. He deserved to feel this guilt. Riddled with his own pain, House raised himself from the bed and hobbled towards the bedroom door.

"You can sleep on the bed tonight. I'll be on the couch if you need me." He said flatly and started to walk away.

"Don't leave!" Cameron begged. She saw House stiffen at the sound of her voice. "Please."

"I don't think it's the best idea for me to sleep in the same bed with you," He said apologetically.

"I don't want to be alone," she said. Something in her voice grabbed at his heart. She was hurt physically and emotionally. But she still wanted him with her. He turned back around and looked at her, her eyes pleading for him not to leave. "You don't have to come near me. Just knowing your there…it makes me feel safe."

How could he say no to her? She needed him so much right now. She could have wanted anyone to be here for her, but she chose him. She chose him above any other friends or family. That had to say something. But what he couldn't understand is why. Why did she want him, of all people? He supposed it'd be an eternal mystery. He was cold, abrasive, downright rude and obtuse. He manipulated people, lied, blackmailed, and destroyed lives. What could she possibly see in him?

His eyes roamed over her beautifully broken body, memorizing every curve, every scar, and every mole. She truly was a vision, an enigma; completely indifferent to his callous words and insults, choosing to see the good in people rather than letting the bad control her, strong enough to still want a man by her side even after the gruesome things that had happened to her. Even in the face of all his lying and deceit, she still wanted him. Nothing had changed.

"You're on my side of the bed," he finally spoke. Cameron smiled and graciously moved to the other side of the bed, curling up under the thick comforter before he could even get to the bed. House pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it blindly to some corner of the room. Cameron couldn't help but appreciate his bare chest, noticing the small patch of hair in the center and even the faint scars scattered all over.

"You have a hamper right there and yet you toss your shirt on the opposite side of the room," Cameron pointed out.

"Cleaning is a woman's job," He sniped pulling his bad leg into the bed and, unsuccessfully, trying to hide the pain it caused.

"Of course it it," Cameron responded with little interest. Her eyes were getting heavy and she let out a yawn. She wanted to stay awake, to relish every moment of this night. She didn't want to miss a single detail because as right as it felt, a nagging feeling told her that this was all too good to be true. The last thought she had before drifting off into sleep was that if this were a dream, she prayed to never wake up.

House lay on his back with one arm behind his head for a long time. He was tired but sleep eluded him. Having her here, in his bed, was strange and yet oddly comforting. She slept sound, barely making a noise or moving at all. He had to admit, he liked it. There was nothing more annoying than sharing his bed with someone who just couldn't lay still. Too much movement made him restless, which turned to annoyance, and resulting in kicking his bed-mate out. She looked so peaceful when she slept. House took his free hand and traced his fingers over her face, moving some stray strands of hair behind her ears. He found himself wondering what she was dreaming of. Her face was so calm and serene, it was impossible for her to not be dreaming of something wonderful.

Cameron must have felt his touch, even in her sleep, as she wrapped her own hands around his and pulled it close to her, forcing House to inch closer, or have his arm extended in an uncomfortable position. He was very near to her now, feeling her light breathing on his arm. And then he smiled. He smiled because he felt happy. A feeling that had long since abandoned him, a feeling that he didn't think he was capable of feeling again. And yet, as euphoric as it felt, he chastised himself for feeling it. He knew he didn't deserve to feel happy. Not with all the pain he's caused her.

His mind was raging in battle. The romanticist in him wanted to keep her here with him for eternity. He wanted to believe that they would go out together and that she'd eventually move in. And maybe one day even start a family and have a few little rug rats to carry on his legacy. But the darkness in him told him to stop. Stop now before it's too late. The darkness knew that he'd never have that life. It had consumed him for too long, feeding off what little love he had left in him, sucking him dry until there was nothing left but anger and hatred. He sighed and shook his head trying to clear the cluster-fuck of confusion away. He decided that at least for tonight, he'd enjoy having her here at his side. As for the future, he'd take it one day at a time. And eventually, House fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Cameron woke up to an empty bed in an unfamiliar room. Startled, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and sat up in the bed. Then she realized she was in House's bedroom. Medical books littered the floor along with countless pairs of running shoes and empty prescription bottles. Panicking, she suddenly felt naked and exposed and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. The previous night was hazy. She remembered the events that happened in House's office, how he had betrayed her. She remembered going home to find Damon waiting for her. He made her take a whole vial of drugs. After that, all she could remember was pain. She furrowed her brows in concentration, struggling to understand how it was that she came to be half naked in House's bed. Thankfully, her sweatpants were still on, but her beater was lying on the floor, bloody and torn. And then she looked at herself. Bandaged and bruised. The panic began to crescendo. She wanted to get up and run out of here. Her mind was flooded with accusations against House. Why had he done this to her? As if sensing her resurgence into the real world, House appeared at the doorway to his room.

"Get the hell away from me!" Cameron shrieked. House had prepared himself for this, knowing that she probably wouldn't remember anything after the drugs left her system. And yet somehow he was hurt by the fact that she didn't remember.

"Calm down," He tried to soothe her. She had this look of distrust in her eyes and was practically shivering with fear. "Let me explain," House tried to reason with her. He took a few tentative steps towards her but stopped when she flinched and backed up against the headboard as far as she could.

"How could you do this to me?" Cameron whispered, fighting back the tears. House was stunned. Did she really think that he was capable of harming her like this? Obviously, she did.


	10. Chapter 10

It's almost funny how Cameron slightly resembled a little lost puppy dog, what with her large, round eyes and trembling skin. If House hadn't known the severity of the situation, he would have made some completely unnecessary yet remarkably hilarious retort. But now wasn't the time for that. House was having considerable difficulties finding the right words to say to Cameron. Anyone who knew him knew he wasn't the comforting pat-you-on-the-back kind of person. And those that knew him also knew that he wasn't the kind of person to shy away from a challenge, no matter what the stakes. House pinched the bride of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger as he struggled to find the words that would make his current situation better.

"Look, Cameron, I didn't do this to you," he tried once more with a calm tone. He chanced a glance in her direction, becoming disheartened when her disposition hadn't changed. Knowing that words would get him nowhere, he walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, wanting so badly to close some of the distance between them.

"You're lying!" Cameron yelled defensively. "If you didn't do this then please explain to me how the hell I ended up in YOUR bed!," she demanded.

"I brought you here," House answered immediately. He didn't want to take too much time before answering her questions figuring that it would only make her more suspicious Then again, answering too fast probably wasn't good either. He turned to face her and apprehensively placed his hand over top her blanketed leg.

"How did you get into my house?"

"With a key," House responded with heavy sarcasm, completely forgetting that the purpose of the conversation was to calm her down, not work her up. "Asiatic Lily's," he continued, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Not just any garden variety of flower would do for you." House meant it as a compliment, and it sounded really good in his head, but not so flattering spoken aloud. Cameron looked at him with furrowed brows.

"Damon gave me those flowers…" she trailed off.

"I'm sure he did. Among other things…" House responded, letting his gaze slide down her body and resting his eyes on her torso. A look of horror spread over her face as she realize what House was getting at. Cameron shook her head back and forth refusing to believe it.

"No. No that's not possible. He wouldn't do that. You're wrong!"

"Oh, Cameron, come on!" House was losing his patience. "Do you really expect me to believe that you don't remember anything from last night?" he stood up and paced back and forth as much as his bum leg would allow. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the room and looked at her with that I-just-had-a-medicinal-epiphany face. "You do remember. At least most of it. But you're lying because you don't want to believe it. You would rather blame me and hate me for it because you can't handle the truth." He scorned her, looking deep into her cavernous eyes. He studied her closely and watched as her eyes changed from accusatory to apologetic. She broke eye contact with him just in time for the tears to start rolling again.

"Where are my things," she asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. House shook his head indicating that there was nothing of hers in his apartment. "Take me home," she demanded while trying to lift herself out of bed. She had barely gotten to the side of the bed before the pain ravaged her body once more. She let out a cry and wrapped her arms around her midriff.

"You can barely move," House pointed out. "You need to rest," he implored and helped to guide her body back onto he bed. Much to his surprise, she didn't flinch at his touch. A feeling of relief flooded his body. "I'll need to change your bandages soon," he concluded, pulled his arms out from underneath her.

"I'll do it myself," Cameron said like a stubborn child. House had had enough. He couldn't take her stubbornness much longer. In small doses it was manageable, sometimes even cute; the way she acted as if it were her against the world. But now she was being downright stupid.

"Fine," he said shortly. House got up off the bed and limped to the dresser, grabbing the box of medical supplies and threw them on the bed next to her. The plastic box popped open, spewing its contents all across the bed. Without another word, House left the bedroom and didn't look back.

Cameron was all alone, with only her misery as company. He was right, just like he always was. She knew that he would never harm her. Sure, he liked to play his little games and humiliate people, but in all the years she'd known him, he never intentionally destroyed someone's body with his own two hands. It had been Damon all along. And she was a fool for ever trusting him. And then she began to worry about what would happen next. What is he showed up at work? Or what if he was waiting in the dark parking garage for her on one of those nights where House kept her working until 3 in the morning. Terror ran rampant through her fragile little body. She tried to will the thoughts from her mind knowing she couldn't dwell on that right now; she had bigger fish to fry.

The cold, capricious Dr. House, who had been the center of her universe for so long now was trying to take care of her and here she was lying half naked in his bed somehow managing to push him away. How could she be such an idiot? He had come to her home, in her darkest hour, took her away before anything worse happened, and opened up his home to her. Albeit, he would probably much rather dump her on the doorstep of someone else. But, the fact is, he didn't He took care of her, protected her, and didn't leave her to face the darkness by herself. It was obvious now that he cared. Underneath his cold facade lay a dormant part of him; the part that feels compassion. Regardless of whether he tried to intentionally kill that part, or if it was murdered by any of his prior blood-sucking bitches, the bottom line was that, that part of him hadn't died completely. Cameron rested her head on the pillows and wrapped his covers around her. She breathed deeply, inhaling his scent that had stained the sheets.

* * *

House had made himself comfortable on his couch, watching but not really paying attention to the monster truck rally on ESPN. More or less he just needed the background noise to keep his mind occupied. But it only worked for a few fleeting minutes. Eventually his thoughts went back to her. He wanted so badly to comfort her but his short fuse was making it impossible. House poured another glass of whiskey - yes this early in the morning - and greedily sucked it down. Feeling the familiar burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, House leaned his head back and tried to relax. It had only been 15 minutes since he'd left her in the bedroom but it felt like so much longer. She was becoming his new drug, threatening to be more addicting than Vicodin. House never thought the day would come where his beloved narcotics would be rivaled by the means of this temptress.

In the middle of this thoughts, House's phone started to ring. He looked at the caller ID. It was Wilson. Not really wanting to pick up, but doing so anyway, he flipped open the phone and held it to his ear.

"Make it quick, I'm busy," House warned him.

"Busy with what, it's 10:30 in the morning on a Saturday. Oh, wait, are you still paying the hooker?" Wilson teased in a sarcastic tone that House found more annoying instead of amusing.

"Nope, I'm getting drunk. Far more important than paying a lousy hooker," House replied without any enthusiasm. Wilson was silent for a moment.

"You do realize I said its 10:30 in the morning, not at night…" Wilson asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Yup," House responded adding extra emphasis on the 'p'.

"Okay, well, look, I'm calling because I'm trying to reach Cameron. I tried her phone but there was no answer."

"So you assume I know where she is?" House asked.

"You know everything, House," Wilson reminded him, inflating his ego in hopes that it would provide a positive payoff.

"Flattering, let me check her diary. Oh that's right, she's scheduled for a mani-pedi right now," House retorted. He heard Wilson sigh and he could imagine the irritated look on his face. House smiled knowing that it was pissing Wilson off. If there was one constant thing in his life, other than pain, it was the pleasure he got from toying with Wilson.

"If you hear from her, can you tell her to give me a call?" Wilson asked, not feeding into House's game.

"That depends. What do you need her for?" House asked curiously.

"I need a good hairdresser, thought she might know someone," Wilson replied in all seriousness.

"Really?" House asked, disgusted by his femininity.

"No," Wilson said just as seriously as before.

"Okay good because if anyone knows a good hairdresser, it would be Chase. That man has great hair." House replied and then hung up before Wilson could say another word. He pressed the phone against his chin. It bothered him that Wilson was looking for Cameron. He was sure it was probably work related but he didn't put anything past the three times divorced oncologist. Wilson was just as needy as Cameron. Together, they'd make one hell of a pity party.

But seriously, what the hell did Wilson want with Cameron? House couldn't help the feelings of distrust floating around in his head. Was there something going on between them? Systematically, House replayed every scenario with Cameron and Wilson together looking for some minute detail that would confirm his theory. He tried to remember if there were any secretive exchanging of glances, or words that may have had a double meaning. But he was coming up empty handed.

God she was really getting to him. And this is exactly why he avoided letting his feelings out. If people thought his abrasive, manipulative personality was bad, they had no idea of the things he was capable of when fueled by desire. He was possessive, controlling, and even more manipulative. No wonder he never expressed his feelings for anyone. It was easier to keep it all inside instead of showing an even darker side. With Cameron though, he couldn't hold it back any longer. House already knew, as soon as she saw the beast that he is, she would run and never look back.

The thought drove him to another shot of whiskey. He made it a double and slammed the glass down on his table after taking the generous shot. Before realizing what he was doing, House got up and walked back towards his bedroom where he found Cameron lying, curled up in his sheets.

She looked at him and smiled, turning on her back and sitting up slightly so she could get a better look at him. He avoided eye contact with her and stood against the door frame, twirling his cane in his right hand.

"You finish changing those bandages yet?" He asked, slurring his words slightly. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, almost unable to believe that he could get drunk this early in the morning.

"Don't be stupid, it's a little early to be drunk. I prefer to think of it as a sober deficiency." He responded while walking over to her. She scoffed and just shook her head. They both sat there which a heavy silence hanging between them.

"House, thank you…for everything," Cameron finally spoke. She realized she hadn't really thanked him for all the he'd done. If it weren't for him, she'd be in a much worse situation. So bad, in fact, that she didn't even want to think about all the damaged that could have been caused.

"It's nothing," He responded looking down at the floor.

"No, it is something. I could be dead if it weren't for you," she said, pulling herself closer to him. Her hand found its way to the back of his head, running her fingers through his short hair. Ignoring the pain in her torso, Cameron climbed over top him, straddling him as he sat motionless on the edge of the bed. She was all too careful not to place too much of her weight on his bad leg. Cameron wrapped her hands around his neck, slightly digging her nails into his skin. House let out a gasp of pleasure. Tentatively, he placed his hands on her hips, wanting to release his tension on her, but knowing he'd only hurt her in the process.

House could feel the desire radiating from her body, becoming hotter and hotter as he moved his hands from her hips and cupped her ass with them. He pulled her closer and gripped her cheeks hard. He watched in awe as her back arched and a small gasp escaped from her lips. And suddenly her lips were on his, hot and forceful. He allowed her to take control, enjoying the fact that he was the victim of her sexual prowess. She parted his lips further with her tongue as their kiss grew deeper. House could feel his member stiffen, pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. When she finally pulled back, House was amazed at the sight of her; lips swollen from their kiss, eyes dancing with desire, and breathing heavy with need.

"Cameron…we can't do this right now," House said, hating himself for saying it. The look of rejection passed through her eyes right before she looked away. She removed herself from him and brought the blankets around her body once more, feeling ugly and exposed in front of him.

"So that's it? Nothing's changed?" She asked. "Of course it hasn't I'm still pathetic, love sick Cameron and you're still asshole House." She continued.

"Although your characterizations are spot on, Cameron, look at yourself. If this was to happen, I would only hurt you," House tried to explain.

"Yeah. Right. Well you might be saving me from some physical pain but that's about it," She said, rolling away from him.

"I'm saving you from doing something that you'll regret," House replied, a little hurt by her previous statement. No matter what he did, he just couldn't win. Spare her from physical pain and he still ends up hurting her. If only she could understand that he was trying to protect her, not reject her.

"How could you even say that!? I've never regretted a single thing between us. No, I don't think you're worried about me doing something I'll regret. I think you're worried about doing something you'll regret. You know there's no going back from this and you're scared because for once in your life you have no idea what will happen next. And that scares the hell out of you."


	11. Chapter 11

"Can I change your bandages now?" House asked her, completely ignoring her last comment. Truth be told, she was making him angry. Hell, she didn't even know him, what gave her the right to analyze him; to tell him what he's afraid of. House did not excel at biting his tongue, but for her, he was trying. Constantly, he reminded himself of the fragile state she was in and each time he thought about it, a wave of guilt overcame his body. It was hard for him to look at her without feeling like everything that had happened was his fault. That guilt broke through the wall that had encased his humanity for so long. It started as a crack in the foundation, but each time he looked into her eyes, that crack grew bigger and bigger. He found himself _wanting_ to restrain from making sarcastic comments; he wanted to make her happy. Above all else, he wanted to love her.

And yet, his mind fought against him. House was used to being so sure about every decision, never second guessing himself. But with every decision he made about Cameron, his mind betrayed him. What a perfect time for doubts and insecurities to creep to the surface. The whole ordeal was frustrating, and at certain moments, House just wanted to give up and go back to his normal self. But she had caught a glimpse of him that he never wanted to show. And now, he knew, she wouldn't let him relapse into his former self.

One question had been haunting him the most. It was a question he wasn't sure if he could answer. And even if he could, he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Just one question, with one answer could change everything, for better or worse. House wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet. He found himself thinking of that evening with Stacey and himself on the roof of the hospital. He had given her an ultimatum; a life with him or a life with Mark. Stacey tried to tell him that there wasn't a simple answer to that but he didn't want to hear it. He told her that it wasn't an easy choice to make, but it was a simple one. And now he knew what she was feeling. It wasn't easy and it definitely was simple.

For the time being, House decided that he wouldn't answer the daunting question. He'd watch as things unraveled in front of him, and once he had enough evidence, then he would make his decision. With luck, Cameron wouldn't sense the disturbance within him. All he needed was a little time to figure out if his feelings for Cameron were real, or if they'd manifested because of his guilt.

"House, are you okay? " Cameron's voice brought him from his stupor. She looked concerned and he quickly pulled himself together and flashed her a little smile.

"The Vicodin and alcohol are having a little shindig, it's a little hard to concentrate," House joked.

"Right," Cameron used a disapproving tone while rolling her eyes. Cameron ran her hands through her wavy brown hair, becoming disgusted by its greasy texture. When had she showered last? It was very early Friday morning, right after her 5:30am run. A shower sounded heavenly; perhaps it would brighten her up just a little. And if not, at least she wouldn't have grease and crud caked to her face and in her hair.

House had been gathering the supplies that had exploded from his medical kit when he tossed it to her earlier. He was preparing himself for another torturous bout of mind of matter. He would be touching her skin again, feeling her warmth, and watching the little muscle twitches as his fingers expertly cleansed her wounds. It got particularly bad when he had to pay attention to her thighs. The slightest touch caused her to react. Sometimes he couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or not. His guess was that it was an involuntary reaction; the way her eyes closed slowly and how her head tilted back ever so slightly, the small space between her partially opened lips that produced almost inaudible releases of air. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts before his member became engorged with his desire.

"Let's get those bandages changed now," House spoke to her.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take a shower before we do," Cameron asked him, running her hand through her greasy hair.

"I think not. You can hardly move around, let alone stand. Last thing we need is you slipping in the shower," House responded. Disappointment crossed her face.

"Okay," she said with a sigh as she threw the blankets from her body. House sighed. Damn her for pulling on his heart.

"I'll run a bath for you," He said and before she could say anything, he was already limping away into the bathroom. Cameron smiled, pleased by the fact that he was trying to do everything he could for her. She had to admit, she hated baths, but hell it was better than nothing. A moment later, House returned to the bedroom without saying a word. His hands busied themselves with removing her current bandages. She wasn't enjoying the tape peeling off of her skin, especially with the bruises, but she found comfort in watching him breathe deeply before removing each bandage. He didn't want to be hurting her, but there really wasn't any choice.

Once he finished removing the bandages, House carefully helped Cameron to her feet. Her steps were slow and short, but he didn't mind. Of all people, he knew what pain was and how crippling it can be. Cameron lowered herself on the side of the tub and felt the water. It was hot, but it felt great.

"I think I can take it from here," Cameron said, hoping that House would give her some privacy.

"Okay," he said but didn't move.

"Get out, House," Cameron tried again. Obviously taking subtle hints wasn't his strong point.

"Oh don't tell me you're getting shy again," House cooed with a light hint of sarcasm.

"No, I was just hoping to have a little privacy," Cameron admitted. While she was sitting on the edge of the tub, waiting for it to fill up, she worked on getting out of her sweat pants. It was hard, considering the bruises and cuts on the skin of her thighs, but she eventually got them down and gracefully stepped out of them. House was watching and he swallowed hard at the sight of her in nothing but her bra and incredibly sexy boy shorts.

"Sorry, doctors' orders, no privacy. The patient hasn't passed a psych evaluation yet so it would be negligent to leave her alone in a room full of…possibilities," House lectured in his signature style. His eyes were struggling to remain on hers as he limped closer to the tub and reached next to her to turn off the water. He took a step back and gestured to the drawn bath, waiting to see what she'd do next. Cameron stood up and turned her back to him in preparation to remove her bra and panties without giving him too much to look at.

House was satisfied, those panties lay so nicely on her pert little ass. He was busy enjoying the sight of her, but at the same time, he was studying her, looking for the slightest sign that she was having trouble standing. Her arms went to reach behind her back in search of the clasp to unhook her bra. As he figured, the cuts right near her ribs stopped her from being able to reach the clasp. House smirked.

"Problem?" He asked, moving his way to stand just behind her. She turned her head and glowered at him.

"Clearly," she came back in a mocking voice. Cameron had barely been able to get the word from her lips when she felt his hands on her shoulders. Her body tensed as soon as she felt his skin upon hers. House used his hands to explore every inch of her back, gently caressing her skin, using extra caution to never press too hard. He stopped in the center of her back, fingers rested on the clasp of her bra. With precise movements, House unhooked the bra and heard Cameron gasp slightly. Gently, he pushed the straps down her arms and watched as the bra fell to the floor. His hands continued searching the soft flesh around her breasts, eliciting small gasps from her as he came dangerous close to sweeping a finger across her nipple.

Cameron found herself wondering how on earth House, the one who never hesitates to push people away, knew how to touch a woman in just the right way. It was peculiar that he was so skilled….but lacked in relationships. Maybe it was all the porn he'd watched over the years. Either way, it didn't matter; it wouldn't make his ministrations any less intoxicating.

His hands were on her ass now, squeezing her cheeks whilst fighting the urge to pull her round ass right to his groin. His hands were becoming more forceful as his lust continued to grow. Without waiting for her to give the okay, he slid his hands under her panties and pulled them down, completely exposing her. Right away she tensed and tried to put a little distance between them. House had been prepared for this and held her close to him using a little pressure on her hips.

"Relax," he breathed into her ear. A shiver went through her body. "You're beautiful," he said placing a kiss on her shoulder. Cameron remembered the last time he'd kissed her shoulder just a few days ago in the locker room. She blushed and felt the wetness between her legs spreading.

She felt him back away from her and she wanted to turn and beg him to keep touching her but she was all too aware of standing completely naked, battered and bruised, under the bright light of his bathroom. Cameron felt ugly. How could he think she was beautiful when her body was a canvas for a psychopath?

House appreciated the view of her nakedness from the back, but he wanted, rather, he needed to see more. He couldn't understand why every moment was suddenly charged with so much sexuality. He had just denied her advancements earlier and now here he was getting her all worked up again. Maybe it was because he's been frustrated for just a little too long. Or maybe it was because the attraction between them was simply undeniable. The two of them were polar opposites and maybe it's the unfamiliarity of each other that drew them together. Whatever it was, it was hot and he hoped it wouldn't end any time soon.

"Turn around," He demanded of her. Having so much power of her was really turning him on. He wanted her to feel vulnerable and scared. For one, she'd still remember the dynamics of their relationship. After all, he was still her boss. But secondly, he wanted her to get all the discomfort out now. That way, if they're escapades continued, she'd trust him and just enjoy the pleasure he planned on giving her instead of questioning it and tensing up.

Cameron shook her head, unwilling to expose her body to him. She feared what the expression on his face would be, she feared that he'd have some snarky remark about her body. Hell, he'd already made it clear that a 15 year old had better breasts than she did. And right now, she couldn't handle that.

"Turn around, Cameron," He demanded again with a little more force this time. Cameron shook her head again. He couldn't see it but she was near tears. She felt like a piece of meat in front of him like this.

"House, please – "

"Stop whining and turn around!" House yelled. He didn't mean to yell, but she was starting to make him mad. She was so ready to jump on top of him and now she had a problem with him looking at her naked form.

Cameron jumped slightly at the intensity of his voice and bit the inside of her lip. Giving up, Cameron let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes for a second. Harnessing her sexual prowess, Cameron slowly turned around to face him, meeting his eyes at the earliest possible moment. She watched as House looked up and down over her body, eyes wide and jaw on the floor. She gave him a nasty smile and ran her hands over her body, eliciting one of those stupid horny smiles from him. He licked his lips, struggling to find what part of her body he should focus on. Every part of her was perfect.

Much to his delight, he saw just how turned on she was. Her folds were glistening with her own juices which sent a fire burning through him. He smirked and looked deep into her eyes. She was a freak, and he loved it. Staring into her eyes, he brought a finger in front of his face and motioned for her to come to him. And she did, slowly, never losing eye contact.

She approached him, and once she was close enough for her skin to touch him, his hand swiftly grabbed her throat. He forced her to look up at him, careful not to crush her airway.

"If you want me to stop, you have to tell me," He warned her. All she could do was nod. And once she did, House's other hand dove between her legs. He used his long, experienced fingers to dip inside her folds, feeling her warmth and wetness. She gasped and nearly went limp in his arms. But just as quickly as he touched her, he stopped. She whimpered in frustration which made him smile. As he held her by the throat, he brought his Cameron-covered hand to her mouth, which she automatically opened, greedily sucking her own juices off his fingers, never taking her eyes off of his.

House slowly pulled his fingers from her mouth and pressed his lips to hers, desperately wanting to taste her for himself. And god did she taste sweet. As he deepened the kiss, his hand made its way back down to her hot pussy. He plunged two fingers inside her and gently pumped them in and out. Within seconds her body started rocking with his rhythm and her breathing became heavier. She was so tight; he didn't want to risk adding another finger, so he resigned himself to pressing deeper into her. She moaned with delight and tangled her hands in his hair

The hand that had been wrapped around her throat trailed down to her breasts and he began rolling her nipples between his fingertips. Her head flew back and House heard her utter an "oh my god" under her breath. House pulled his fingers out of her and twirled them around her clit, causing her legs to spasm. She was grabbing him everywhere, moaning loudly in his ear. She felt the pressure building up inside of her, knowing she was close to orgasm. House could sense it too, her whole body was shaking.

"When you cum, keep your eyes on mine. Don't close them." He ordered. Cameron couldn't say anything; she was barely able to nod. His fingers continued stroking her clit, the pressure was becoming too much. House grabbed her throat as soon as she started looking away and forced her to look up at him. The moment her eyes connected with his, she lost control. Waves of pleasure flooded her body, her muscles were becoming spastic, and her wetness was dripping down her legs. She was lost in complete ecstasy, he had made her cum so fast. House supported her as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, loving the heavy breathing noises she was making.

"Wow," she uttered once her breathing had returned to normal. She was still clinging to House, not wanting to let go because she feared if she did, then she'd lose this moment forever.

"Your bath will be getting cold soon," House said to her, trying to guide her over to the tub. She complied and sat once again on the side of the tub, and then slowly spinning around to dips her legs in before lowering herself entirely in the water. House was still standing over top of her, making sure that he was close enough to help her if she needed it. Cameron sat on her knees in the warm water and looked up at him, licking her lips.

House gave her a questioning look. Cameron pulled her hands from the water and moved towards the button of his pants. He quickly stopped her and back up, just out of her reach.

"There's plenty of time for that yet."


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: Sorry for the long delay, finals have started so I've been concentrating on that. This is also the reason that this chapter sucks and has zero point. As always, please leave me feedback if you'd like. Thank you all for reading.**

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Cameron soaked in the warm bath for a few moments, adjusting to the burn of the water as it enveloped her broken skin. House provided her with a clean wash cloth which she gingerly used to scrub her skin. Much to her surprise, House offered to wash her back and she gladly accepted. He was purposely making it the most titillating back scrub ever, constantly squeezing the water over her shoulders sending trickles of water rolling gently down her chest, arms, and back. Occasionally he would place gently kisses along her neck, shoulders, and collar bone.

After washing her hair with his manly shampoo, and rinsing it thoroughly, Cameron lifted herself out of the tub. House offered her a clean towel but Cameron politely declined. House shrugged his shoulders and threw it behind him, concerned only with her naked form only inches in front of him. His eyes consumed her wet flesh; he was surprised by hos confident one orgasm had made her. She stood in front of him, raised on her tiptoes, and gave a playful nip on his ear lobe. The smoldering look in her eyes drew the oxygen from his lungs.

"I'm ready for those bandages, doctor," Cameron whispered, trailing a finger down his chest. She'd left House slack-jawed and surprised. Cameron walked out of the bathroom, leaving House nothing but to follow her into the bedroom-which he did so gladly, watching her ass sway from side to side. She crawled onto the bed, giving him an award-winning view before rolling over on her back. House was smirking, silently loving this deviant side of do-gooder Cameron. He grabbed the bandages and lowered himself into a seated position on the bed next to her.

"Oh dear, can't apply bandages to wet skin," House commented in a playfully disappointed tone. House hovered over her naked glistening body and licked his lips sensually with his tongue. A gently stream of cool air escaped from his slightly puckered lips. The cooling sensation sent violent shivers throughout her body. She closed her eyes, enjoying the tantalizing chill on her skin dancing with the fire emanating from within her body. Again and again, House teased her flesh. He loved every movement her body made, from the raising hips, the arching back, and even the little twitches in her thighs.

When he stopped with the teasing, Cameron took a couple seconds before opening her eyes. As she did, she saw House admiring her body and she felt herself blush just a bit. Slowly, his eyes scanned her physique as if it were sculpted by the exalted hands of Michelangelo himself. Cameron didn't mind at all. Of course she hated the monstrosity of her skin, but she'd fantasized for so long with encounters such as this with House.

Seeing this other side of him was like pure magic. And again, she couldn't help but wonder if all of this was just a dream. The intimacy, the excitement, the nurturing; this was a House that she never believed could exist. The curtains have been pulled back and the true man had been revealed. Like a rift into another world; it was exciting, new, alluring, and Cameron just wanted to stay there because, in that place…there was no pain, no worry, no fear. Just pure bliss. But as with all things new and fragile, it had to be handled delicately or else it will shatter to pieces. That constant thought in her head brought the fear back. This was so new and so perfect, but it was uncharted territory. What horrors could await here? She began to fear that one minute the rift would be open and if she turned away, even if for a second, the rift would close. All that would remain is the darkness she'd learned to love.

Cameron remained in this cavern of thought until House finished applying the new bandages. He laid there next to her for a minute. Both were on their backs, staring at the ceiling, probably lost in completely separate thoughts.

"Thank you," Cameron finally whispered. She turned her head to look at him. No response. How typical. So Cameron went back to staring at the ceiling.

"I'm going to get some of your clothes. Stay put," House instructed her. It was sudden, barely giving Cameron time to protest before he was climbing out of the bed.

"I'll go with you," Cameron spoke rather quickly. House turned around and eyes her suspiciously. Her eagerness to get back to the place in which she was abused was disturbing, but interesting none the less.

"Be a good girl and stay put," House mocked the voice of a person talking to a dog and once again turned to walk away. On the way out, House grabbed his cane which had been hanging from the doorframe, his leather jacket that gave him a rough around the edges look, and his keys from their usual spot on the bookshelf adjacent to the door. Without another word, House left the apartment and about a half of a minute later, Cameron heard the engine of his bike roaring loudly as he took off down the street.

Cameron let out an exasperated sigh and covered her head with a pillow. She was smiling like a bashful little school girl. Until the reality washed over her. Getting some spare clothes for her was just a clever excuse for him to snoop around her house. Fighting against the pain, Cameron got off the bed and crossed the room to the corner where her purse sat atop a pile of old, dusty diagnostic books. She was frantically tossing various items aside, searching for her cell phone. Ten frustrating seconds later, she gave up and poured all of the contents out on the bed. Just as she feared, her cell phone wasn't there.

"Bastard," she said aloud. Cameron returned her items to her purse with unnecessary force and dropped the entire thing to the floor. She didn't want him searching through her home. It's not like she had anymore incriminating things to hide. But it's just the principle of privacy. He didn't need to look through her closet for anymore skeletons. But knowing House, that's exactly what he was going to do. And if he found anything, which she was sure he would, instead of mentioning it to her, House would rather wait until the opportune moment for optimum embarrassment. This meant in front of her colleagues at the most inappropriate time. Cameron sighed knowing there was no way around it. No point in stressing over it now.

While she waited for House to return, which was taking an uncomfortable length of time; Cameron borrowed one of his clean t-shirts and found a pair of running shorts. She had to tie the string of the shorts tightly to keep them from falling off her slender hips. Feeling suddenly awkward, a stranger in House's apartment alone, Cameron slowly shuffled into the spacious living room and examined her surroundings. Her hazel eyes were drawn to the elegant black piano situated in the far corner, behind which hung a few guitars on the otherwise barren walls. She traced her fingers along the smooth, polished piano. She'd heard him play only once and it was, in a word, breathtaking. Remembering the serene, painless look on his face as his fingers methodically produced one of the most beautiful and rapturous songs she'd ever heard. Cameron sat on the wood bench staring down at the black and white keys.

She wished she had talent like that. Hell, she'd settle for any talent. Music made no sense to her, she never really caught on to reading it and gave up during middle school. And art sure as hell wasn't her strong suit either. Her finest pieces of artwork included a stick figure mural and a terribly misshapen clay flowerpot. But her inability to produce anything creative also led her to appreciate the talent in others. Cameron gently pressed on a few random piano keys, dreaming that one day that House would teach her to play.

Cameron was roused from her daydream by a sudden series of knocks at the door. She began to panic, and wanted to get up and hide, but fear held her in place. The knocks came again. Cameron felt her heart pounding, hard and fast, against her ribcage. She held her breath and prayed that it was just some little girl selling cookies or a religious nut wanting to preach to someone about his savior. Then she heard a key slide into the lock and watched the doorknob as it began to turn. Cameron swallowed the lump in her throat, nearly dying from anxiety. The door swung open to reveal one very confused Dr. Wilson standing at the threshold.

"Cameron!?" Wilson stuttered in a questioning tone. "What are you doing here?" He paused and looked her up and down. "And why are you wearing House's clothes," he added to his array of questions. And then his face turned from confused to shock. "No. No you didn't!" Wilson continued, bringing his hands to cover his gaping mouth. "Please tell me you didn't sleep with him," Wilson couldn't wipe the stupefied look from his face.

Cameron wasn't even sure what to say or do at this point. She was just as shocked to see Wilson at the door as he was to see her inside House's apartment. She stammered and focused on everything in the room except for him. All she could think about is what House was going to do when he found out that Wilson had seen her here, in his clothes…alone. At some time during Cameron's struggle to speak, Wilson stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him, still wearing an expression that bordered confusion, disbelief, and utter shock.

"We didn't sleep together, well I mean, we did, but not like that," Cameron finally spoke. Wilson flopped down on the couch and exhaled a breath of relief.

"So you slept in the same bed with him, but didn't sleep with him?" Wilson asked, needing to make sure he understood the story correctly. Cameron simply nodded hoping that her memories of the previous night weren't betraying her poker face. The way he had touched her…

Wilson looked around the otherwise uninhabited room, noticing the apparent absence of House. "Is he here?" Wilson inquired.

Cameron shook her head from side to side. She definitely didn't want to say too much, fearing that Wilson's intuition would tell him everything he needed to know.

"Wait, were you here last night?" He asked with a puzzled face. Cameron stood up with some difficulty and walked into the kitchen. She was stalling. She had no clue what to say to him. Sure, she could tell him the truth, which a huge part of her wanted to, but that would eventually make its way back to Cuddy and the last thing she needed was for the Dean of Medicine to know she'd be doped and abused only to be save by a man who was verbally abusive and doped himself with narcotics every day. Oh, the irony of that situation. Cameron grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Wilson as she flopped on the couch next to him.

"I had a few too many drunks last night, House agreed to let me crash here." Cameron lied, hoping she wasn't being too transparent. In her years working for House she'd learned many valuable things. One of which was how to lie. Although, compared to him, she was still an amateur.

"And House just happened to be there?" Wilson inquired with a hint of disbelief.

"Well, no. I was a few blocks away so I walked here. To be honest, I didn't give him much of a choice. He opened the door and I pretty much stumbled in and took over the couch," Cameron laughed as she pretended to recall the fabricated events.

"Right," Wilson replied. Cameron wasn't sure what to say, she couldn't even discern whether Wilson knew she was lying or not. Should she try harder to convince him at the risk of sounding overzealous or should she just drop it and let him think what he wanted.

"Hanging around with house has really made you distrustful," Cameron pointed out.

"Yeah, you think?" Wilson said sarcastically. "Look, I really don't care how you got here, or why, but I'm going to tell you the same thing as I told you before. If this is turning into something you need to make absolutely sure you want it," Wilson urged her. "There's no half way with house. You're either all in or not in at all. After Stacey, House was a mess, he can't go through that again," Wilson lectured in his preachy, over-caring voice. Whereas House found this to be incredibly annoying, Cameron liked it. Wilson was a sensitive, caring guy. No wonder they were both inexplicably stuck in orbit around planet House.

"Thanks Wilson, but I don't think this is going anywhere. House has made it clear that his answer will always be no to me. Last night came down to either letting me hijack his couch, forcing him to drive me home, or leaving it up to me to find a way home. You and I both know he wasn't going to take me home and he wouldn't send me off on my way because he needs me on the team. Trust me, he didn't want me here last night and he made it very clear by unleashing an arsenal of insults on me," Cameron explained. The one good thing about House consistent asshole behavior was that, anyone could make up anything, and as long as it sounded remotely asshole-ish, it sounded like House. Wilson considered her statement as he took a healthy drink of beer.

"Hanging around with House hasn't just made me distrustful. It's taught me to read between the lines. And I'll tell you, there's something between the lines here," Wilson conjectured.

"Well, whatever you might see between the lines, I'm sure it's nothing but a ploy. Everything House does has an ulterior motive aimed at benefitting himself regardless of the destruction it will cause," Cameron offered, wishing the conversation would just end already. She was becoming increasingly nervous. House had been gone a decent amount of time and she knew that he would never leave her alone in his apartment for an extended period of time.

"I'll drink to that," Wilson agreed. He and Cameron clanked beer cans then took a drink. "Oh, by the way, I've been trying to contact you. Did House tell you that?"

Cameron shook her head.

"Well either way, it doesn't matter now, I got my answer," Wilson said as he got up off the couch. Cameron gave him a peculiar look, wondering what he was referring to. Wilson rand a hand through his brown hair and paused at the door. He turned to her, opened his mouth to say something but then just turned around and walked out. She then found herself wondering what he was calling her for. Cameron hadn't the faintest idea. Wilson had only called her outside of work a handful of times and most of those calls revolved around trying to locate House or dating advice.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: I don't own the characters, I just like to play with them. Please leave some feedback if you like (or don't like) the story. Thank you all for reading!**

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Cameron didn't have much time to contemplate Wilson's last words, about five minutes later, House was bursting through the door with a duffle bag of what she assumed to be her clothes. He threw the bag on the couch, narrowly missing Cameron's head.

"Hey!" She yelled. House limped passed her and into the kitchen.

"I told you to stay put, why the hell are you out here?" House asked completely unapologetic. He pulled open the fridge door and looked over at her. "And why are two beers missing?" he questioned, grabbing another for himself. House was walking back into the living room and spotted the two empty beer cans on his already cluttered coffee table. "And why are you wearing my clothes. You really are just like an unsupervised puppy."

"I was thirsty, cold, and tired of being caged in your room," Cameron snarked back. "Find anything interesting in my house?" she interrogated. House swallowed a few mouthfuls of his beer before propping his legs up on the coffee table.

"Yup," he said in a smug tone.

"Are you going to tell me?" Cameron asked clearly annoyed and yet totally unsurprised.

"Nope,"

"Bastard,"

"Yup,"

Silence hung in the room like a thick fog. House had become fixated on a Biggest Loser marathon that seemed more comical to him that it should be. He hadn't said much since his return to the apartment and it was beginning to worry Cameron. She now understood why House hated the phrase "not knowing is the fun". She sure as hell wasn't having a good time trying to figure out if he actually found something interesting at her place or if he was just messing with he to see how far he could push her.

She so badly wanted to say something to him about Wilson, but she was too scared. She didn't want to destroy the time she had with him, even though she had a feeling all of this would end as soon as they went back to work. Cameron also began to worry that Wilson would slip up and say something to House about the situation. She didn't ask him not to say anything but she hoped it was silently understood that neither of them should mention the event.

"Can I have my phone?" Cameron asked him. House didn't look at her and instead made a shushing noise and pointed at the tv which showed a large, sweaty woman attempting a 50 meter crab-walk Then just to be an ass, he pulled her phone from his pocket, opening and closing it in front of his face. Cameron was getting irritated with his childishness. When she thought he was engrossed in the tv once more, she lunged for the phone. But House was quick, raising his arm above his head, just out of her reach.

"You're such a child," Cameron spat and folded her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm a bad boy. I need a spanking now," House replied in a nasally child's voice. Cameron rolled her eyes and got up off the couch. She was met with a pain in her ribs causing her to wince slightly. She wished that her body wasn't so fragile, it would have made her exit much more dramatic. Cameron turned her back to him but before she could walk away, his hand caught her wrist and wrapped firmly around it.

"Let me go, House. I need to use the bathroom," Cameron sighed.

"You don't have to use the bathroom. You're just pissed and instead of saying it, you're gonna go cry in private for a few moments then come back acting like everything is fine," House explained in his classic I-know-the-diagnosis-so-I'm-going-to-make-a-long-w inded-statement-to-make-you-feel-like-an-idiot voice. Cameron turned around calmly and took a step closer to him. She took her free hand and used it to remove his hand from her wrist, placing it on his leg and patting it gently.

"Be a big boy now and watch your show while mommy uses the bathroom, okay sweetie?" Cameron sneered in a disgustingly sweet mothering tone.

"But mom!" House protested in an annoying voice. This time Cameron laughed because he mimicked a child so perfectly. She turned to walk away and was relieved when House didn't stop her.

While he waited on the couch for her return, House popped a couple Vicodin and absentmindedly rubbed his aching thigh. Where was that hooker masseuse when he needed her? And then it hit him. Cameron could be his distraction tonight, and she didn't need to walk to make that happen. A devilish grin crept across his face. When he heard her coming back into the room, he sighed loudly and turned off the tv. He construed his face to resemble mild pain knowing that she'd take the bait.

"Leg hurting?" She asked standing next to the couch.

"No it feels like heaven. Yes it hurts," House snarled. Cameron was hesitant now. She knew he was extra grouchy and reserved when in pain. Doing something wrong now could piss him off and she'd have to suffer the consequences.

"Did you take your Vicodin?" Cameron asked timidly, regretting it as soon as she said it. Of course he had taken his Vicodin. When didn't he? Just as she thought, House looked at her with an incredulous face.

"Wow! Painkillers for pain? Why didn't I think of that? You know, you should be a doctor," House's retort was biting and sarcastic.

Cameron rolled her eyes and stepped between his legs which were still propped up on the table. He watched her carefully as she gently lowered his bad leg to the floor. Cautiously perching herself on the coffee table with his knee situated between her legs, Cameron used her hands to sooth the damaged muscle hidden under his jeans. She watched his face for signs of pain. But so far, he seemed to be enjoying it. That pleased her. It pleased her to know that in a world of relentless pain, she could be one of the very few things capable of taking his pain away. Even if it was a temporary fix. House leaned his head back and exhaled deeply. And then Cameron stopped.

"You know this would feel a lot better if I didn't have to rub through jeans," she suggested. House shook his head.

"No, you don't need to see that," he told her in a low voice. "It's hideous."

Cameron scoffed at his unbelievable stubbornness. " You've got to be kidding me. I'm a god damn doctor, I don't think your scar will even make it into my 'top 20 completely disgusting things I've seen' list. Plus, you've seen the monstrosity that I call a body," Cameron defended her proposition.

"And if I'm recalling correctly, you refused to let me see it until you couldn't any longer," House pointed out.

"I was scared!" Cameron yelled. "You're not scared, you're just being stubborn!"

House stared at her with a blank expression for a while before sighing and nodding his head. All he could think about was how unsuspecting she was and how easily he could manipulate her. He felt like a puppeteer and she was but one of the puppets he controlled.

Drawing in a deep breath, Cameron leaned forward and placed a reassuring kiss on his lips as her hands loosened his belt. House deepened the kiss, parting her soft lips with his tongue. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, as she undid his button and unzipped the jeans. Their breathing was becoming erratic. His hands began to roam all over Cameron's body; her legs, her back, her stomach and chest. He needed to have her closer. In one fluid movement, House wrapped his arms under her thighs pulled her on top of him so that she was now straddling him as he sat on the couch. Cameron was surprised by his actions and flashed him a sexy smile before returning her focus to his lips.

House moved his hands under her ass, lifting her slightly, bringing her closer to him. She was getting turned on. He knew because her body started to move on its own, not needing him to guider her. She was taking control and god damn it was hot. House was aware that his member was stiffening, and Cameron too would soon know.

Frustrated by the clothes that denied her the pleasure of his flesh, Cameron blindly searched for the hem of his shirt and upon finding it, struggled to lift it over his head. She knew that any other woman her age would probably find House and his body…unattractive. And that's being nice. But in her eyes, House was like a god. No, scratch that. House is a god. Seemingly omniscient, breaking rules for his own benefit, letting others fall and refusing to help. House was the modern day Zeus, cruel and powerful but underneath it all, he still cared about those that remained in his good graces. Even if his caring nature was hidden under a shroud of sarcasm, callousness, and insults.

Cameron raked her nails down House's chest while still gently, playfully, rocking her hips from her straddled position on top him. He growled and tossed his head back, his erection almost full now. She could feel it, pressing against her, begging for entrance. Flashing him a seductive smile, Cameron skillfully slide off of him and dropped to her knees on the floor between his legs. House watched her pull the hair tie off her wrist and gather her wavy brown hair into a high ponytail. She flattened her palms on his knees and slid them up his thighs, purposely avoiding his eager bulge, and grabbing the top of his unbuttoned pants. Cameron kept her eyes focused on House as she tugged at the stubborn jeans, exposing parts of him she'd never seen before.

Despite her outwardly courageous actions, Cameron was about to faint from nervousness. So many nights she'd spent envisioning so many detailed fantasies about House. She was beginning to worry that the reality wouldn't live up to the fantasies. Ignoring the fears, Cameron tried hard to focus on the man in front of her. Regardless of how fantasy and reality matched up, this is the man her universe inevitably revolved around. It didn't matter how things turned out. The only thing that mattered was him, right here, right now. Everything else was trivial.

House lifted up to help her remove his pants. His eyes remained on her, searching for signs of repulsion. Since the accident the only people to see his leg was Stacey of course and that bitch Cuddy who gave him a placebo shot in the spine. Cameron trailed her fingers over his mutated flesh feeling him tense at the uncomfortable situation. She knew if she spoke, even if the words were reassuring, House would shut down and never let her in again. Finding it difficult to remain silent, Cameron focused on her mind on her fingers. She moved them tenderly around his damaged flesh, kneading, rubbing, and soothing the ache.

A few moments went by before House started to relax. He had to admit that her soft hands really did work wonders. Either she'd done this a few more times than he thought, or it was just the fact it was _her_ hands.

"You're better than the hooker that normally does this," House teased. Cameron was startled by his voice. The silence was helping her concentrate and of course it had to be broken by his signature sarcasm. She wondered if there was ever a situation in which he wasn't sarcastic. Probably not.

"You're welcome, " Cameron replied, not very pleased with his compliment. House drew in a breath preparing to make another remark but expelled the breath of air as soon as he caught a glimpse of warning plastered on Cameron's face.

"What?" He asked innocently. "Can't a guy wonder if the ending with you will be the same as with a hooker?" House sneered. Cameron shot him a look that he interpreted as a shut-up-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you look. But he couldn't resist. "You know…a happy one," he suggested and not so discretely dropping his eyes to his stiff cock suffocating inside his boxer briefs.

She should have been appalled by his audacity. She should have slapped him on the face and walked away. She should have told him that he's a disgusting human being with no shame. She should have done all of this, but she didn't Quite the opposite actually. Cameron wanted to prove that she could not only keep her composure under his pressure. And she wanted to prove that she could do it better than some harlot hooker.

After his comment about the happy ending, Cameron removed her hands from him and placed them at her sides. In an attempt to show moderate disinterest, she exhaled a loud, irritated sounding sigh and tilted her head up to the ceiling.

"I don't give happy endings," She told him point blank. House rolled his eyes at her.

"That's not surprising," His tone was of boredom.

"I give unforgettable endings," Cameron teased. House had almost no time to react. The next thing he knew, her hand had cupped his balls, massaging them gently while her other hand was tracing the length of his cock. House's mouth parted uncontrollably in response to the unexpected pleasure. Cameron took advantage of his shock and pressed her lips to his once more. His kiss this time was rough and greedy; she could hardly keep up with his intensity.

Sometime during their kiss, Cameron had released him from the cotton prison and stroked his length with her soft, warm hands. Tremors were racing through his body and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, welcoming the feeling. His eyes shot open again when he felt her mouth close around his tip and slide all the way down his length. She had taken all of him and he could feel the tightness of her throat constricted around his blood-engorged self. As she slid him out of her mouth, her tongue danced on his sensitive fleshing; winding around him like a serpent. The moment her eyes met his, House had lost control.

His hands grabbed her hair and forced her mouth down on him once more. She didn't resist and let him control the speed and depth that he wanted. Over and over again House was forcing her mouth down on him, unable to control his most primal needs. Cameron's eyes began to water and her throat was constricting against the foreign invader. She gagged but House didn't stop. He was too consumed in ecstasy.

The pain and discomfort was almost too much for Cameron to bear. Even breathing was becoming difficult which cranked up her anxiety level. She looked at House, hoping he'd understand her pleading eyes and soften his attack. But when she saw his face, consumed with absolute, undeniable pleasure, it was enough to give her the strength to continue. He wanted this, he needed this, and she wanted to be the only one to give it to him. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to relax.

House was feeling himself come close to release. He was on fire, and much like a volcano, he was ready to erupt. Only seconds away, he pressed her down on his entire length and held her there, thrusting his hips to get every bit of his swollen cock into her mouth. Within seconds, he had reached his climax, shooting his seed deep into her throat and slowly pulling out of her mouth. House melted into the couch, satisfied and still feeling the reverberation of his orgasm in all the muscles of his body.

Cameron sat on the floor with her back against the couching trying to regulate her breathing now that her throat was no longer occupied. She wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes and stared at the floor. She wasn't sure what to do from here. Should she get up and walk away? Try to cuddle with him? If anything she was at least hoping for some sign of appreciation from House.

House noticed her stiff body language and assumed she was trying to recover from his assault on her throat. He had to admit, she surprised him. He didn't think she'd be able to handle his aggressiveness but she clearly proved him wrong. He leaned forwards and gently massaged her shoulders.

"It's going to be hell working with you now," House said out loud in a gruff tone.

"Welcome to my world," Cameron smirked.


	14. Chapter 14

That night, Cameron didn't sleep. She lie awake, while House snored gently at her side, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. The physical pain of her wounds was subsiding, only to be replaced by a much worse pain. The pain of reality. Her restlessness was caused by haunting thoughts of what happens next. Tomorrow was Sunday, and quite possibly the last day of this amazing thing with House. She wasn't sure what this was. A vacation? A glimpse into the future? A dream or hallucination? Whatever this thing was, it was coming to an end. And then what? She'd go back home, home to those terrible memories, home where she'd be alone, vulnerable, and consumed with misery. What's to stop Damon from coming back angrier than ever? He could killed her that night. Who's to say he won't be back to finish the job? Just the thought of it all was enough to induce a mild anxiety attack.

Seeking comfort, Cameron turned her head and watched House as he slept. His chest was rising and falling in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm. Tonight he slept without a shirt, baring his chest to the night. His gray sheets were draped over him carelessly, leaving most of his chest and part of his bad leg exposed. Cameron noticed how gentle his face looked while he slept. The lines on his forehead that by day seemed to be chiseled indefinitely were barely visible by night. Those same lines, caused by his furrowed brows whilst in deep concentration, were just one of the reasons Cameron loved him. She had never known any other person to be as dedicated as House was. Once his mind was set, he never gave up. House exploited every means to find answers, to discover the truth, no matter how immoral, degrading, or bastard-esque his means were. Often times his insanely maddening methods led to less than desirable repercussions which in turn left him completely alone. He was alone while everyone else around him was struggling to figure out if they should hate him or thank him.

Being a doctor is far from easy. Patients expect doctors to have all the answers all the time. Trying to live up to these preposterous standards almost always results in failure and disappointment. While most doctors try to be superhuman, House doesn't It's not so much the non-conformity that Cameron found so appealing, it was the fact that the world could love or hate him and he never changed. Just as his father, House was consistently and painfully truthful. Even with knowing he's bringing terrible news to a patient or their family members, House never sugar coated the truth. At first, Cameron was appalled by his abrasiveness. But the more time she spent with him, the more she grew as a doctor, the more these feelings metamorphosed from disgust to admiration. He knew his bedside manner, or lack thereof, would cause people to despise him, even hate him. He lived with that, knowing he was the asshole who destroyed that last glint of hope. He lived with those demons every day; and he wrestled them every day.

Over the years, House has become an expert in hiding his struggles. He locks himself away in his lonely apartment fighting those nagging, persistent demons. The little bastards can be tricky. Suppressing one or two is no problem. But trying to suppress hundreds of them becomes exhausting. They lay dormant for a while, gathering their strength, plotting their escape. And if for a moment, one of those demons grabs hold of a single doubt or regret, everything goes to hell. They find a way to claw and bite out of the cage they've been locked in. They creep inside your head slowly taking over your thoughts. Until one day, you wake up and realize that you're a prisoner in your own body. And you lie there at night, wondering how it all got so bad.

House was hiding this struggle. Hiding behind Vicodin, scotch, and hookers. House was under the delusion that he's poison and will infect anyone or anything that gets too close to him. Cameron could see it in his eyes, those beautiful sapphire eyes; iridescent and cavernous. Those were the kind of eyes Cameron could fall into, completely losing herself. But, House wouldn't allow it. And he struggled every day with those damned demons regardless of how many people loved or hated him. At the end of the day, he did it all, suffered endlessly in order to save lives. The true definition of a tragic hero.

Cameron sighed longingly. If only he'd let her love him. She could fill the void in his heart. She could find her way in there, curl up inside of him, comfort him…complete him. She could help him end the struggle once and for all. She'd teach him that sometimes fighting gets you nowhere and that he didn't have to be so damn strong all the time. She'd teach him to cuddle with those demons.

Looking once more at his face, lips slightly parted, as he dreamed of god only knows what, Cameron smiled. Gently she took a finger and traced the outline of his strong, incredibly sexy jawline. House stirred, his mouth closed. Somewhere inside, he must have registered her touch. For a moment Cameron thought he might not be sleeping, and yet in that moment she didn't really care. She wanted to enjoy this time with him. In her mind, she knew that once this weekend was over, things would return to normal. Normal meaning his cold, obtrusive behavior, coupled with sarcastic remarks about her incompetence, sprinkled with some sexual innuendos, and all wrapped neatly together with those sexy, heart stopping glances that leaves her speechless, but ultimately mean nothing.

Hating the thought of it all, tears welled up in her eyes. Damn him. Damn him for toying with her. Damn him for enjoying it. And damn herself for loving him. He's completely ruined her chances at happiness because no matter how many years pass, no matter how many guys she might date, no matter what happens, House will always be the one. She knew that inside any person she might date, she'd always be searching for some semblance of House. She knew also that she'd never find another man like House, and no man would compare to him. So either she'd end up with him or she'd end up alone. The future was surely looking grim. The thought of being alone terrified her so much; Cameron entertained the thought of dating women to avoid eternal loneliness.

"_House would just love that,"_ Cameron silently mused in the darkness of his bedroom. Then she chastised herself for letting House dictate her last resort for human companionship. The whole situation was spinning out of control and in a fit taciturn rage; Cameron wished that he'd never shown up at her house. And if she had died that night then at least she wouldn't have to fight anymore. She wouldn't have to live each day struggling to control herself in the face of her irascible, avaricious boss who just couldn't love her. No more watching him destroy his life with Vicodin. No more unwarranted jealously when he told stories about sleeping with hookers. No more fiery rage when witnessing the little tit for tat games between Cuddy and himself. No more anger, confusion, frustration, heartbreak, and no more House. If she couldn't be with him, then she didn't want to _be_ at all.

House stirred again, pulling her out of a dangerously depressing train of thought. He rolled onto his side, facing her, his face now in such close proximity to hers. Cameron was wide awake and finally accepted that tonight would be a sleepless one. She needed to get out of this bed, needed to find something to occupy her mind before her thoughts ate her alive. Hesitantly, Cameron placed a gentle kiss on House's forehead and carefully slid out from underneath the covers. She held her breath as she did so, keeping an eye on House and hoping he wouldn't wake. Careful not to trip over anything on the bedroom floor, Cameron tiptoed out into the living room, flicked on the dated lamp and lowered herself onto the worn out couch. The gentle yellow light cascaded through the room, painting it in the loneliest ambiance she'd felt in a long time. Cameron's eyes were once again drawn to the polished black piano in the corner of the room. And again she smiled, thinking of him completely lost and hopelessly devoted to his music.

The bookshelves which appeared to be less tended to than the piano were lined with countless books, mostly medical. Ranging from diagnostic methods to Nephrology, to infectious diseases, and more, the books were all smashed together under a thin layer of dust. House's incredibly absorbent brain had sucked up all the knowledge these books had to offer. Now their only purpose was for decoration. Cameron glanced at the items lining the shelf on the TV stand. His movie selection was something to be pitied. Only about a dozen or so DVDs were on the shelf with the only remotely interesting ones being Law Abiding Citizen, Walk the Line, and Rock-n-Rolla. She considered putting one in but decided against it, hoping that she'd be able to coax him into watching one with her tomorrow.

On the table in front of her were various magazines. With mild interest, Cameron flipped through them only to cast them aside seconds later. She had absolutely zero interest in Monster Trucks, motorcycles, or import cars. Although, if he wanted to talk about them, she'd gladly listen. Hell, she'd listen to him talk about the reproductive qualities of a squid if it meant that she could spend more time with him. Bored out of her mind, Cameron turned her attention to his leather jacket that he'd thrown carelessly on the couch earlier that evening. Not even sure why she was doing it, Cameron pulled the jacket to her face. It smelled of genuine leather coated with a thin dusting of his cologne. She slid her slender arms into the jacket and wrapped it tightly around her, enjoying the cool sensation of the leather on her bare skin.

Leaning back into the couch, Cameron shoved her hands in the pockets of the coat and was met with an all too familiar sound. The sound of pills rattling against their plastic prison. Her hand gripped the bottle in the right hand pocket and pulled out what she knew to be one of his many Vicodin prescriptions. Cameron regarded the bottle with more interest than she did the magazines.

Curiosity was getting the best of her. She wondered what his preoccupation with the pills was all about. Against all rationality, she seemed to think that House didn't need the painkillers. Instead, he was only convincing himself he had to have them and was simply too afraid to go on without them. She wanted to know what it felt like; what he felt like. A nervous feeling grew in her stomach and Cameron glanced around the room to make sure House hadn't crept up on her. Once satisfied that she was alone, Cameron quietly opened the bottle and dumped two of the pills on the table in front of her. The pills stared at her, calling to her, begging to dissolve inside of her and promising to take her pain away.

And then, without another thought, Cameron popped the pills in her mouth only to realize she had nothing to wash them down with. Unlike House, Cameron was not a professionally pill popper, she couldn't dry swallow them in quite the way that he did. The foul taste of Vicodin infiltrated her mouth which almost made her gag. Desperate to rid her mouth of the taste, Cameron grabbed the nearest liquid and took a generous swig, and regretted it at once. The only liquid around was the golden scotch on the end table that House was sipping on a few hours ago. Immediately the burn consumed her mouth and throat, but at least the pill taste was gone.

Feeling like a real bad ass, Cameron smirked and stretched out on the couch, waiting for the pills to dominate her with their rapturous high. While she waited, Cameron thought about simpler times. Over a decade ago she was a young, carefree, but studious high school senior back in Chicago. Adorned with friends all around and skilled with stumbling into trouble, Cameron remembered the day of her last pep rally. While waiting on the bus stop, she and her best friend Olivia snuck a smoke after decorating each other's faces in their school colors. Her boyfriend, Zack, was a little more than overwhelmed when she walked into homeroom that morning. She was one of those girly girls and he was a rocker dude complete with piercings, tattoos, and a real bad boy attitude. After homeroom, Zack convinced her to skip first period to which she reluctantly agreed and together they snuck out the back doors and shared a cigarette as they walked off school property.

Across the street was a community playground where they stopped for a little making out and heavy petting. And in the midst of it all, as her shirt was lying on the ground and Zack's hand was in her pants, they were rudely interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Cameron recalled the gut wrenching feeling she had when she looked up to meet the face of her handsome and incredibly intelligent physics teacher.

Cameron laughed aloud when she thought about how she convinced Mr. Bouvier not to take disciplinary action against them. Mr. Bouvier fell prey to her girlish charm and witty remarks. If only she had known House back then. Back when she was a little rebel, back when she was someone he could want, back when she wasn't so predictable and couldn't be controlled. Damn it. Even now as she reflected on her high school years, House found a way to creep inside her head. Frustrated with herself, Cameron swallowed another generous gulp of House's delicious golden elixir.

She was feeling light and a little spacey. A dopey smile replaced her familiar frown. Although she didn't want to admit it, the Vicodin was making her feel pretty damn good. For the first time in a long time, Cameron didn't really care about anything. Hell, she had half a mind to run back into bed with House and boy would he be surprised to wake up to her naked form hovering above him. The temptation was strong, so strong, but that annoying moral component of her wouldn't allow it. Cameron tried to convince herself that if she didn't take some control now that there would never be another opportunity. And with all the foreplay going on this weekend, he couldn't possible say no. Her morals responded with a slew of convincing argument, telling her that doing something while she was high was not a good idea. House would find out. He'd call her pathetic. He'd make little comments about it every day. Cameron didn't need to give him another reason to look at her like the child that needs a babysitter. No. No more of that. No more pathetic lovesick Cameron.

In fact, the reality of it all was pathetic. She could see that now. The way she followed him blindly, sticking up for him, doing anything he asked…it wasn't cute. It was pathetic. Yes, he is a mystery, a paradox, and enigma. But where the hell did he get off treating her like shit? Stringing her along like a god damned puppet. It needed to end. All of it. Somehow she needed to pull herself out of this hole House dug for her. She deserved to be loved, to be happy, to be appreciated and recognized for the person she is. House would never do any of those things for her. It was time for the game to end.

Fueled by her new found resilience, Cameron grabbed one of the stupid magazines and a pen that had been lying on the floor. She began to write. Words flowed from her mind and appeared on the pages in blue ink. She didn't even think. She allowed her mind to take control. Barely noticing that she was crying, Cameron finally ceased her writing when she felt a terrible cramp in her hands.

Unable to control the flood of tears pouring from her eyes, Cameron knew what she had to do, she just didn't want to actually do it. But she had to. She had to get away from all of this. Had to stop it all once and for all. Quietly, she padded back into House's bedroom, relieved to find him still in a peaceful slumber. So peaceful that it actually tugged on her heart and she had half a mind to just climb back in bed with him. But she didn't. Instead she picked her purse up off the floor, and leaned over the bed, placing one last kiss on his forehead before walking out of his room again.

Her vision was blurred; a mixture of tears, scotch, and vicodin, making in nearly impossible to see. Wiping her eyes, Cameron searched through her purse until she located her phone and set it on the coffee table, next to the almost empty scotch and the magazine she'd just scrawled her good-bye in. She hoisted the heavy duffle bag of her clothes over her shoulder, cringing at the pain it caused, and walked to the door. Cameron's hand rested on the door knob as she chewed the inside of her lip nervously. With a final glance around his apartment, she opened the door, and walked out into the brisk darkness of night.

As silently as possible, Cameron shut the door behind her. She looked up into the night sky, taking a deep breath and whispered, "_I'm so sorry."_


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note: Okay so I know it's been a while since this story has been updated but the stress of last semester's finals, plus two classes during the current summer session, and another shorter story titled Clinic Room Rendezvous are to blame for that. For those that have been reading, I made some changes to the end of the previous chapter after deciding to take this story in a whole different direction. Thanks for all of those who have stayed with this story and who have left reviews. Also, just wanted to note that the "writing" Cameron was doing in the previous chapter will be revealed in this one. It is writing that is entirely my own creation so please don't steal it :P**

**As always: I don't own the characters but just love to play with them. And, as always: Drop some feedback if you are liking, or not liking, the story. Since I've decided to take it in a new direction, if anyone has some ideas for how they'd like to see the next chapter play out...lay it on me!**

**Thanks!**

**Aleina**

* * *

Sunday morning came around with the sun shining obnoxiously through the partially closed blinds of House's bedroom. He shivered at the noticeable chill in the room and reached out to pull Cameron closer to him. After a few failed attempts to make contact with her skin, his eyes shot open, revealing an empty bed.

"Cameron?" He called out still half asleep. No answer. Wiping the grogginess from his eyes, House sat up in bed, listening intently for any signs of her. He didn't hear the TV or the shower. Maybe she was just taking a piss he reasoned. No need to get all upset over it. Waiting for a few more minutes and with no further sign of life in his apartment, House brought himself into a seated position on the edge of his bed. Just like every other morning, his leg was aching and he tried to soothe the pain with careful massaging. His hand shot out to the nightstand, groping for his bottle of Vicodin but turning up empty handed.

"Damn" he said aloud, realizing he'd left them in the pocket of his jacket he so carelessly through on the couch after returning from her apartment yesterday. He sighed and painfully made his way into the living room. As he passed the bathroom, he knocked on the door, waiting for Cameron to open up. But when he was met with silence once more, panic was beginning to swell deep within him. Annoyed already with the pain in his leg, he was in no mood to be dealing with her childish antics this early in the morning. Without hesitation, he opened the door, completely surprised when he found the room was dark and Cameron was nowhere in sight.

Now thoroughly confused and panicking more than normal, he hurried into the living room, ignoring the pain in his leg to the best of his abilities. As he found this room was empty as well, House pounded a fist into the wall. Anger and confusion, mixed with a little fear was wracking his nerves. Upon noticing the lamp still shining brightly in the room, he trudged over and snapped it off. His gaze fell upon the the almost empty bottle of his scotch sitting on the coffee table right next to one of his Monster Truck magazines with blue writing scrawled all over the pages.

Totally detached from reality, House sank into the couch and picked up the magazine. It was Cameron's handwriting. He reached for his jacket, taking the pills from his pocket and swallowing them earnestly. He breathed deeply for a few minutes before attempting to decipher the drunken script she'd written.

_I have to take a step back and analyze this situation; watching my fantasies crumble with hesitation...only to see that everything is the way it should be. And you continue living your life without loving me. Of course, I know that fate can be a cruel mistress. I studied the books but somehow I missed this._

_But now I see why and now I know exactly why time keeps moving on but leaving me behind. Your love for me was never there in the first place and now I sit here left to face the feelings I wish I could erase. And I don't know why it came to me tonight. All I know is that tonight...I can finally let you go._

_Closure can be such a bittersweet note in the end. But it's meant to happen; a broken heart always has the chance to mend. To tell you how I feel will kill me inside, honestly! "You'll be just fine" I remember you promised this to me. I know just where to find all the answers; inside the fading memories of your subtle whispers._

_And I know that this will hurt me. And I know that this will kill me. As this hour glass filters out the last grain of sand, just give me one last second to hold your hand. With the blink of an eye I can finally understand. And I know that this will hurt me. I know this will kill me._

_I keep forgetting to just forget about you. But I always remember all the things untrue. If by chance, I'm looking a little down...please, please, please just don't make a sound. I'm learning how not to love you. I'm teaching myself to forget you._

House reread the haunting words at least a dozen times before finally registering that she was gone. She had left. Fueled with rage, House downed the remaining traces of scotch and threw the heavy glass bottle against the wall, watching the tiny shards of glass sprinkle themselves upon the floor. So many emotions were running through him, he didn't know which of them to focus on first. If he should focus on any of them at all.

He was pissed. Pissed because he had opened up to her. And what did she do? Walk out on him in the middle of the night, unable to even say a proper goodbye or give him a proper reason? No, all she did was leave him an incredibly cruel poem confessing that she wanted to forget him.

He was hurt. Hurt because of all the former reasons. And even more because he cared. He actually fucking cared about her.

He was resentful. She wanted to walk out like that? Fine. He'd let her go. She was nothing but a broken little doll anyway. He had no use for her, other than being an incredibly delicious sexual outlet. Hell, he could just hire another smoking hot fellow.

He was worried. He wanted to know where she was, why she left, what was running through her mind. Is she okay? Is she somewhere safe? God, I sure hope so he thought to himself. This is all my fault. She had told him that just a few short days ago. Her pain, her reckless decisions, her battered body, and now her absence...it was all his fault.

He was guilty.

And the worst part of it all, he realized, that her love was not unrequited. It took all of this; everything up until this moment, for House to finally understand that. He had to find her. He needed to tell her this. Only then could she make the decision to either stay or leave. Not like this though. Not without the truth.

Without thought, House quickly found a shirt and pulled it over his chest, followed by his motorcycle jacket. He grabbed his keys and left the apartment. And even though he was determined to find Cameron, he couldn't help but feel a little resentful for doing it.

"_She wasn't supposed to leave," _the voice in his head reminded him over and over. He'd decided to check her house first then the hospital as these were the two most obvious places for her to be. After that, he really had no idea where to look so he spent the entire drive to her apartment hoping so damn hard that he'd find her there.

* * *

"So what's a good looking girl such as yourself doing in a depressing place like this?" the curious bartender asked, placing another lemon drop on the chipped surface of the bar in front of her.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she responded with an annoyed sigh.

"Looks to me like you're wallowing in self pity, but hey I'm just the barkeep," he said before turning around to continue stocking the shelves with various bottles of alcohol.

"An observant one at that," she countered, watching him replace a bottle of scotch that was identical to the bottle she had been drinking from only a few hours before. She shuddered a little bit as she relived the last moment she spent in House's apartment. The last kiss she placed on his forehead ever so lightly.

"Well, I am pretty smart," the barkeep said, turning around and leaning ever so casually on the bar. "I do have two masters; one in applied physics, the other in aeronautics."

Cameron regarded him cautiously over the glass in her hand, unable to discern if he was lying or not. That charming smile and those honey colored eyes partially hidden under a mop of brown hair nearly the same color as hers gave him a boyish appeal. Not quite the look of a genius. That, and he was a damned barkeep.

"You're lying," she smiled and pointed accusingly at him before tilting her head back and emptying the liquid into her mouth. Cameron placed the glass back onto the counter and looked up at him again.

"Okay, yeah I am. Only one masters...in marine biology," he smiled and started working on another shot for her.

"A marine biologist?" Cameron's interest was piqued. "So then why are you here and not on a boat or something?" she asked.

Pretty boy bartender flashed her a little smile. After a few seconds he returned to his previous position carrying not one, but two shots. He placed one on the bar for her and held the other in his hand. He looked into her eyes and simply shrugged.

"I guess I'm here for the same reason as you," his response was simple. Cameron gave him a short chuckle, shaking her head.

"Somehow I doubt that," she told him.

"We all need someplace to hide from the world," Pretty boy bartender told her with that smile still on his face. There's was no judgment in his voice. No sarcasm, no cynicism, no condesention, no dissaproval. Cameron had been so accustomed to hearing these things all the time. She had forgotten how nice it felt to have a conversation that wasn't being analyzed like a microbe under a god damn microscope.

"But, where do you go to hide from yourself?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note: I own nothing :( Hope you all are enjoying the story and thanks to everyone for their continued support and feedback! **

* * *

House arrived at her apartment in a matter of a few moments which, to him, felt more like a few hours. He scanned the street for her car but it was nowhere to be seen. In spite of this, House still hoped for that slim chance that Cameron might be inside, possibly curled up on the couch or soaking in the tub. Though there was only a snowballs chance that he'd walk in to see her casually relaxing in her home, House sighed and made his way to her doorway. Operating on autopilot, he quickly retrieved the key hidden underneath the pot of Asiatic Lily's. They were looking a little limp and the petals had started to brown along the edges. Inwardly, House smile, glad to know that the gift that bastard Damon had gotten for her was forgotten and left to die. And rightfully so after what he had done to her.

House hadn't thought about what he was going to do to the little bastard if he ever found him. He hoped to god that he never did see him because, truth be told, House had no idea if he'd be able to stop himself from beating Damon to a bloody pulp. Or maybe he'd go _Saw_ style and create some elaborate torture scenario for him. Images of chloroforming the bastard, inserting razor wire under the skin around every single one of his joint, then forcing him to jump on a trampoline came to mind. The thought was so sickening but perfectly justified that House actually scared himself for a moment for even thinking about going through with it.

Freeing his mind from a vortex of violent thoughts, House crossed into Cameron's home and took a few tentative steps into the living room. Nothing looked different since he'd been here just two days ago. Then again, his focus that night was primarily on Cameron and not so much the alphabetized books on her shelves or the dishes stacked so perfectly it gave him the inclination that she must have played Tetris way too competitively in her youth. House quickly made his way through every room in her apartment, throwing open every closed door with false anticipation of seeing her sparkling eyes looking at him. But there were no signs that she had even returned here. With a frustrated grunt, House pulled out his cell phone and dialed Wilson's number with expert precision.

"Wilson!" House proclaimed in an exasperated voice. "Are you at the hospital?"

"Yeah, just finishing up some paperwork, what's up?" Wilson asked casually.

"Have you seen Cameron?" House inquired, walking out of her place and back to his car.

"Not today..." Wilson trailed off almost forgetting the encounter he had with Cameron the previous day.

"Check the clinic and the - wait, what do you mean not today?" House asked with suspicion thick in his voice. He sat in his car for a moment attempting to slow his racing mind.

"House…I –" Wilson sighed.

"When did you see her?" House demanded an answer being only seconds away from losing his temper.

"What's this about, is everything okay?" Wilson asked with a concerned voice.

"No!" House shouted. "No, it's not okay, Wilson. Just answer the damn question. When did you see her last?"

"Yesterday,"

House replayed the events of the previous day over in his mind. He'd barely be away from her all day. Aside from the half hour he'd taken during the morning to get some clothes from her apartment. He quickly realized that Wilson must have stopped by within that short amount of time. He sighed.

"Did you enjoy your beer?" House quipped, a little pissed that neither Wilson nor Cameron bothered to tell him about their little meeting.

"Look, we figured it'd be best –"

"You figured?! You figured what?! That I'd be pissed you shared MY beer with MY Cameron in MY apartment while she was in MY clothes?!" House yelled.

"Yes! Yes, that's exactly what I thought. And you're not doing much to prove me wrong. Just listen to yourself, House!" Wilson yelled back.

"Damn it Wilson, I'm not pissed about that. I'm flipping the fuck out because she's gone! Which brings me back to the point of this phone call, check the clinic and the lab. I'll be there in 10 minutes" House instructed then closed his phone and tossed it on carelessly on the passenger seat.

* * *

"Forgive my bluntness but why would you ever want to hide from yourself?" Pretty Boy Bartender asked with that charming smile splayed across his tanned face. Cameron snorted at his question.

"Do you want the honest answer, the semi-honest answer, or the not honest at all answer?" She asked with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Surprise me," he shrugged in nonchalance.

Cameron smiled. If anyone here was surprised, it was her. She was enjoying the lighthearted conversation. Pretty Boy Bartender was working some kind of voodoo on her or something. She hadn't felt this comfortable in casual conversation since, well, since college. After her graduation, her conversations were scrutinized and dissected forcing her to build a wall of suspicions and reservations.

"Let's see, where to begin?" Cameron wondered out loud. "Well, I'm a drug addicted doctor in love with my misanthropic boss who is at least 10 years my seniors who also coincidentally saved me two nights ago from nearly being beaten to death by my abusive kinda-sorta-boyfriend and let me stay with him to recover until this morning when I decided in a Vicodin and alcohol induced stupor to leave him with no intentions of ever returning to him – or my job – and now I'm sitting here regretting practically every decision I've made since college," Cameron rambled on all in one long breath. "And now I need another shot," she stated and looked directly into Pretty Boy Bartenders honey eyes.

Of course, he obliged and set to work mixing up another shot for her. He prepared it quickly and returned to her within a minute.

"So, is that the honest, the semi-honest, or the not honest at all answer?" he asked, amusement running rampant on his face. Cameron threw back her shot with ease and regarded him with clouded eyes.

"Does it really matter?"

* * *

Wilson came barreling down the steps looking rather flustered, with his hair looking tussled and out of place, just as House came barging through the front doors of the hospital. Bad news was written all over both of their faces only to be accentuated further when Wilson gave House a grave shake of his head before looking down at his feet. Together, they walked in a rushed pace towards the elevators ignoring the tense silence between them. Once behind the safety of elevators doors, Wilson finally let out a breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding in.

"Try her phone?" Wilson huffed, still slightly out of breath from running up and down the stairs searching for Cameron. House pulled her phone from his pocket.

"She left it," House struggled not to yell. "Along with this," he added, retrieving the crumbled page of his magazine with Cameron's writing on it and shoved it into Wilson's hand. The elevator arrived on the floor where Wilson and House shared offices. Their pace had slowed dramatically. Wilson was entirely engrossed in deciphering Cameron's dilapidated script. And House was silently thankful for the slower pace; his leg had been throbbing painfully since he'd woken up. But his determination to find Cameron was the only thing on his mind. Cameron first, pain second.

"You call Chase or Foreman?" Wilson asked after a few moments of silence. He handed the crumbled paper back to House who unceremoniously stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans.

"No and you're not going to either. And you're definitely not going to tell Cuddy, got it?" House warned in his ominous tone.

"House, if we can't find her and if she doesn't show up for work tomorrow, they'll be asking questions. Do you have the answers for them?"

House didn't respond. Instead, he rolled his eyes and entered his office, flicking the lights on as he stepped past the door. Wilson didn't wait for an invitation to follow. House walked behind his desk and sat down in his chair, eyes fixed on the handle of his cane.

"You gotta tell me what happened," Wilson said, taking a seat at one of the chairs in front of House's desk. There was a noticeable pain ensconcing his azure eyes when House finally looked up at Wilson. In their 10 plus years of friendship, Wilson had been by House's side through some incredibly difficult times. The infarction, the breaking up with Stacy that followed, the Vogler incident, and then the Tridder escapades. But this – this was the first time Wilson had ever seen such a defeated look on House's face. His heart was aching for his best friend.

"Does it really matter?" House whispered looking down at the floor once more. "We all have choices. Cameron made hers," He lamented.

Wilson ran a hand through his brown locks and stood up, pacing back in forth in front of House's desk.

"Yes it matters, House. I mean, look at you, you're a mess. This is obviously affecting you way more than you're letting on," Wilson rationalized speaking wildly with his hands. "You care about her –"

"I don't care about her," House interrupted.

"Oh will you stop denying it already?!" Wilson cried in frustration. "I'm so sick of you burying yourself in pity and denial. Haven't you had enough loneliness and pain? When is it enough!?" Wilson was frantic now.

"It's my fault," House's hushed voice rung out like a church bell in the office. Wilson stopped his ranting and sat back down in his chair studying the broken man before him.

"What do you mean?"

"She's gone…and it's my fault,"

"You can't possibly believe that –"

"I do," House stated. He leaned back in his chair and pulled the bottle of Vicodin from his pocket, giving it a shake before emptying two pills in his hand. He swallowed them without hesitation and placed the near empty bottle on his desk. "Need a refill," he looked up at Wilson.

Wilson grabbed the bottle and stormed out of his office without another word. House watched as Wilson stalked down the hallway shaking his head incredulously and moving his lips at a fast pace. House assumed Wilson was mumbling a slew of insults centering on his bastard-esque nature. House sighed and rose painfully from his seat and hobbled into the adjoining conference room, surprised by the flood of memories washing through his mind.

All the little tit-for-tat exchanges between himself and Cameron. The gentle touches and lingering gazes. The time she kissed him. The time she helped him with his sling. The time she came in looking a mess after her meth high. In this tender moment, House looked at the desk he was so used to seeing Cameron sit at while she sorted through his mail. The space was kept immaculately clean and organized. Everything was labeled neatly and stacked orderly. He smiled. And in a moment of sheer desperation, he grabbed a pen and a piece of the Diagnostic Department letterhead, scrawling a sloppy note, folding it a few times, and then taped it to the computer screen, before shutting off the lights and leaving the office.

* * *

"Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter to me. But it matters to you," Pretty Boy Bartender offered his sincere thoughts. Cameron's eyes began to water. She realized that her entire life had danced around one man; one man, the complete opposite of herself, the epitome of capriciousness, the love of her life. Thinking of leaving terrified her more than she cared to admit. It seemed like her life was just a constant replay of tragedy. First, in Chicago, her husband whom she loved to no end died…and so she ran. Ran somewhere far away. Now, in Princeton, the man whom she loves to no end was finally opening up…and she decides to run again. Where to this time? Some city on the west coast where she'd be heartbroken for a while until someone came to sweep her off her feet only to run away again.

"I love him," she whispered, tears rolling down her face. "I love him so much it hurts. But he doesn't love me. What do I do?"

Pretty Boy Bartender took her hand in his and used the other to lift her chin up. He smiled brightly and wiped the tears from her face. Cameron smiled and shook her head, completely embarrassed by her behavior.

"Have you told him that you love him?"

"No, but I know he knows"

"How can you be so sure?"

Cameron laughed. If this guy knew House then she wouldn't have to explain it to him. House, the almighty omniscient asshole knows all.

"Trust me, if you knew him like I did, then you'd know that he doesn't miss anything. He knows," Cameron assured Pretty Boy Bartender.

"Trust me, words have the power to change people," he responded coolly, returning to his casual leaning position on the bar.

"No one can change him," Cameron chuckled at the boys ignorance.

"Maybe not. But if there is one thing I've learned, it's that hearts are often broken by words left unspoken. Go tell him you love him. What's the worst that can happen? You already believe that he doesn't love you, so if he doesn't then at least you'll know for sure. And you can leave here with solace. But if he does, well, could you imagine what your life would be like if you'd left here and he did in fact love you?"

Cameron thought about his words. He was right. House needed to know how she felt. And after her declaration of love, if he didn't feel the same, she could still leave. It's not like she was tethered to this place forever. She's a respectable doctor, any hospital would be lucky to have her. But she needed to be sure. Needed that sense of closure before possibly making the worst decision of her life.

"You're right," she said with a smile on her face. Pretty Boy Bartender smiled back at her. "I gotta tell him!" she exclaimed, pulling her wallet from her purse and searching for the right amount of bills to cover her drinks.

"Go, what are you waiting for," his smile beaming.

"Hold on, let me get my cash together to pay for these," she said excitedly, unable to control her smiling. The bartender grabbed her glass from the bar and placed it into a bin.

"No, get outta here, you can pay for these later. Go find your man!"

"Thanks!" she giggled. Cameron gathered all her stuff and walked towards the door of the bar then turned back to see Pretty Boy Bartender still watching her. "What's your name?" she yelled from across the bar.

"Vince," he hollered back. She smiled, waved, then disappeared through the doors and into the heavily crowded streets of Sunday in downtown Princeton.

* * *

House stepped off the elevator as Wilson was crossing the reception area at the main entrance of the hospital. He chucked the freshly refilled bottle of Vicodin to House, which House gave a little nod of his head in thanks for before continuing on his path.

"Where are you going?" Wilson asked as House walked passed him.

"To get a drink, leave me alone," He responded then stepped out into the Sunday afternoon sun.

Wilson watched as House crossed into the parking lot and eventually fell out of his line of sight. Knowing that he couldn't follow House, Wilson reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"I know it's Sunday, but I need you to come to the hospital. We have a House problem," he said and snapped the phone shut.


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note: Two chapters in one day...I'm on a roll. I own nothing :(**

* * *

Cameron left the bar in a hurry, easily sliding through the crowds of people along the streets of downtown Princeton. Even with a healthy buzz, she was able to maneuver quite gracefully along the pavement with minimal stumbling. The whole time she was walking, she was practicing what she'd say to him when she finally saw him again. It wasn't until she stood on the corner, waiting for the light to change so that she could safely cross the street, did she take a second to think about where she was going. Her feet were gravitating towards the hospital, since it was the closest place within walking distance to the bar that House could be at. Then she wondered if he would be there at all.

_"Why would he be there?" _she asked out loud causing a couple with their young child to give her some strange looks. "_It's Sunday, he's not working…"_ she trailed off, suddenly aware of the crowd of people shoving past her to get across the street before the light changed again. She stood there on the corner, searching through her purse for her phone, and finally realizing that she had left it in House's apartment. At the time she was thinking that there would really be a need for it.

With a sigh, she hurried across the street just as the light was changing and continued on her path to the hospital. At least there she'd probably be able to find someone to give her a ride home, or a phone to use, either one would suffice.

* * *

House drove down the narrow streets of Princeton until he came across one of his most frequented bars. The street parking was all filled, so House took one of the next best parking spots; the employee parking in the rear of the building. Hell, he came here enough he should have some VIP parking spot. House walked through the crowds of people, crushing a few toes under his cane along the way, until he came to the entrance of the bar.

Much to his delight, the bar was practically empty. It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon so he suspected most people would want to spend the day outdoors. But not him. No, he wanted to get piss face drunk and maybe call for a hooker…or two. House walked lightly to a seat at the very far corner of the bar and motioned for the bartender to take his order.

"What'll it be?" the young bartender asked with an obnoxiously cheerful smile.

"Scotch," House said simply. "Make it a double," he instructed. The bartender nodded his head causing the mop of shaggy hair to fly loosely around his face before turning and grabbing a nice top shelf bottle and pouring a double-shot for House. He brought it back and House immediately downed the contents. "Another," House said before the bartender could even turn away. The bartender nodded his head and set to work getting another double-shot prepared.

"Must be something in the air today," the bartender mused aloud as he placed the second shot in front of House. Not really interested in what he was saying, House simply nodded and knocked back the second shot. "Or maybe it's just that particular seat," he shrugged, filling the glass up again before House even asked him.

"What are you talking about?" House asked, figuring that he owed the guy some semblance of conversation seeing as how he didn't have to ask for the third shot.

"Oh, sorry, don't mind me, it's just that no more than a half hour ago a young woman was in here wallowing in self pity," the bartender shook his head and grabbed the towel from his pocket to wipe up some of the spilled scotch on the bar.

"I'm sure that most people come here to wallow in their self pity," House said with a roll of his eyes then knocked back the third shot, motioning for another. The bartender gave him a strange look but none the less refilled the glass.

"Yeah, but man, you shoulda seen her," the bartender reminisced. "She was beautiful, definitely not anyone I've seen here before. Doubt I'll ever see her again," he sighed. The bartender then poured a shot of scotch for himself and raised his glass to House. "Here's to beautiful women,"

House wasn't a toasting kind of guy but he respectfully raised his glass a smidgen before swallowing his fourth shot in a matter of 10 minutes.

"What makes you think you won't see her again?" House asked, glad to hear someone else's problems so he didn't have to think of his own.

"Ahhh she's torn. Wants to run away, has a bag packed and all, but wants to tell some guy she's in love with him. Either way, she'll either be long gone in a few hours or she'll be with the man she loves," the bartender relinquished this information without hesitation.

* * *

Cuddy was speed walking through the entrance of the hospital, desperately trying to hide the worry on her face. Wilson saw her coming and waited for her right inside the lobby. He opened the door and followed her through the clinic and into her office. Once inside she sighed and looked at him.

"This had better be an emergency Dr. Wilson, otherwise I'm going to be really upset," she warned, taking a seat on the couch. Wilson sat down next to her, unsure of where to start with the whole story.

"Okay, well here goes. I stopped at House's apartment yesterday only to find Dr. Cameron there, alone…in his clothes," Wilson trailed off, taking a peak at the expression on Cuddy's face. Luckily she'd only looked confused and slightly thoughtful. "I left, deciding it was best that I didn't stick around then got a phone call from House this morning. Basically, she left sometime in the middle of the night, left her phone a note for him – talking about forgetting about him – and we haven't seen or heard from her since," Wilson finished, trying to make the story as brief as possible but still hitting all the important pieces.

"Are they sleeping together?" Cuddy asked, as if she hadn't even heard the remainder of the story.

"I don't know," Wilson replied honestly. "But House, he's, I don't know. He's like depressed. Thinks it's all his fault,"

"It probably is!" Cuddy retorted. "You know how he can be, it was only a matter of time before he broke Dr. Cameron beyond repair," she shrugged.

"Okay, lets see if I can put this in a way that you would understand," Wilson attempted again becoming frustrated with Cuddy's lack of concern for his best friend. "When House is...normal, he makes our lives difficult. When House is upset, pissed, or otherwise not normal…he makes our lives hell. If this is really affecting him as deeply as I think it is, you'd better be prepared for battle," Wilson warned her. He knew too well the wrath of an unhappy House.

A look of horror spread across Cuddy's face when she finally realized that House's unhappiness was bound to bring some serious problems. Problems that she really didn't want to deal with on top of everything else. It hadn't been too long ago that she'd just gotten rid of Tridder and she sure as hell wasn't looking forward to anything else messing up the feng shui of her hospital.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, getting right down to business. She wasn't looking at Wilson, instead she was staring out of the doors of her office, trying to think of someway to avert this seemingly inevitable disaster.

"We gotta find Cameron," Wilson said. Cuddy was still staring out the windows, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. And then her jaw fell open.

"I don't think we'll have to look far," she said, pointing out of her office.

* * *

"She sounds pathetic," House snorted. He motioned for another drink, which the bartender poured hesitantly.

"Might wanna slow down there, big guy," he suggested with a laugh. "And I don't think she's pathetic, she's just damaged. I mean drugs and abuse will do that to someone I guess," he said then walked away to the woman at the other end of the bar who motioned for another beer.

House took his shot, not heeding the suggestion from the bartender and slammed the glass back on the counter. "_Damaged"_ he thought to himself as the alcohol finally started to warm the ice in his veins. "_Story of my life,"_

"Another?" the bartender asked, waking House from his thoughts. He nodded and watched the sweet golden liquid fill his glass.

"So if she's enamored you so much, why didn't you just sweep her off her feet? At the very least it probably would have been an easy lay," House suggested, not really caring how crude it made him sound. But the bartender just laughed and leaned against the bar.

"I'm a marine biologist, she's a doctor, it wouldn't have worked. I'm never in one place for long and she wouldn't be able to just pick up and leave –"

"A doctor?!" House said, nearly dropping the shot glass from his hand. "What was her name?" he demanded. The bartender shot him a strange look.

"I uh, I dunno, she didn't give it," he said. "Why?"

"What did she look like?" House demanded, pulling his wallet out and tossing a couple bills on the bar and pulling his coat off the back of the seat.

"She uh, I dunno, skinny, pretty?" the bartender fumbled for his words under the sudden pressure. House slammed his fist on the bar and leaned over, looking right at the bartenders light brown eyes.

"Hair color? Eye color? What. Did. She. Look. Like?" House asked in a low, but forceful voice, careful to enunciate every word of his last sentence.

"I dunno, brown hair, light...maybe blue or green eyes," the bartender stuttered.

"Where did she go? What did she say?" He demanded.

"I don't know where she went! She said she was in love with her boss, an older guy but he doesn't love her and - oh!" he exclaimed. "You're him! You're the guy she's in love with?" the bartender wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

House didn't answer the guy. He limped quickly through the bar and back out into the street. For once he was glad to have his cane. The copious amount of scotch he'd drank seriously comprised his balance. But he didn't care. He needed to find Cameron before it was too late.

* * *

Cuddy and Wilson both rushed out of her office in time to catch a final glimpse of Cameron boarding the elevator. They looked at one another and nodded before tearing up the stairs after her. By the time they had arrived in the hallway leading to House's office, they saw her walk inside and flick on the lights. Not sure what they were going to say once they faced her, Wilson and Cuddy leaned against the wall catching their breath.

"I have to call House," Wilson huffed. He pulled out his phone and dialed House's number. After a few rings he heard House on the other end. "House, get to the hospital now. She's here." He said before hanging up the phone. Wilson knew that House didn't need any further explanation. He just hoped that House was still close to the hospital. And that he could find a way to stall Cameron while waiting for him to get here.

Cameron walked into the office, half expecting to see House sitting behind his desk playing with his little gameboy. But he wasn't. She frowned, taking in the surroundings that had become too much like a second home for her throughout the past few years. Everything here was so familiar, so comforting, she didn't know what the hell she was thinking when she decided to run away. There was no way she could go through with it. Not when everything here felt so…perfect.

She walked into the conference room, looking at the white board which still had the symptoms of their latest patient scribbled in House's sloppy handwriting all over it. She smiled, running her hand along the desk she sat at when she did most of House's paperwork. Then she saw the note taped to the screen. Hesitantly, Cameron untapped it and studied the font carefully. It was definitely his writing.

The paper had been folded a couple times. On the front, the words "My Inamorata" was written on it. She unfolded it and read the note.

_Eternal pain, something I will take to my grave. Your memory is an image I just can't erase. I spend my life always walking in the shadows. Scared, alone, locked away inside my castle. And when you love something, they say set it free and if it don't come back, it wasn't meant to be. _

_I destroy everything I touch, even the things I love too much. I am cursed with these hands, they will never understand. I don't want to let you go, I'm incomplete and all alone._

Cameron read the words over and over as tears poured from her eyes. Okay, so it wasn't House declaring his undying love for her, but it was a declaration none the less. He wanted her. He needed her. And now she knew. But her happiness was interrupted by the realization that she left him. There'd be no way in hell that he'd want anything to do with her now. He probably didn't even care that she left. Hell, he was probably happy about it. No more pathetic little Cameron to take care of. He was better off without her.

Cameron's thoughts were disturbed by the sound of a door opening and she quickly wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and turned around to see not one, but two pairs of eyes staring at her.

"Hey," Wilson said with a wave.

"Oh. Hey Wilson, I was just uh, I was just leaving," she said, stuffing the note in her pocket and pretending to gather some paperwork off her desk.

"No, Cameron, don't leave. He'll be here," Wilson reassured her, gently taking her arm in his hand and leading her into House's office and motioning for her to sit. And she did, in one of the chairs facing his desk.

"Come on Dr. Wilson, we shouldn't be here when House gets here," Cuddy said, pulling Wilson away from Cameron. She smiled at the younger doctor.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be right out," he replied. With a reassuring grip on Cameron's shoulder, Cuddy turned and walked out of the office. It wasn't until he heard the door close did Wilson speak again. He crouched down by Cameron's side and looked tenderly into her eyes. "Hey, do you know who Isaac Newton was?" he asked.

Cameron nodded her head, not sure why Wilson picked this, of all times, to talk about dead scientists.

"Well, Newton's third law states that to every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction," he said casually, as if this was an everyday kind of conversation.

"Yeah, I know," she responded quietly. "No offense Dr. Wilson, I really don't care about Newton right now," she said as politely as possible.

Wilson chuckled. "No, I'm sure you don't. But think of it this way, for every tragedy there is an equal and opposite remedy. House has been through a lot and it's about time someone comes along with a cure. You just might be the one to save him in all of this," he said.

"And who will save me? What if my curing him will only poison me?" she asked near tears again.

"His poison won't affect you," Wilson said with a laugh. "You've been around him for what, three years now? And you're still here, you still love him, you still want to love him."

"Is love ever enough?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

"Love is always enough. Love will trump even the most noxious of poisons, every time," Wilson spoke the words with such conviction, he almost believed them. But inside, he wasn't sure if it would be enough. But it was a start.


	18. Chapter 18

**Authors Note: Still don't own anything, unfortunately :( But I've really spoiled you all today, three chapters in one day is record!**

* * *

Cuddy and Wilson walked down the hallway a companionable silence. Both knew that Cameron was the best thing for House, but neither of them really expecting anything good to come from all of this. Not that they didn't want House, or Cameron for that matter, to be happy…it just seemed they were a pair destined to be doomed. Some people are meant to fall in love but it doesn't always mean that they should be together. Life really is a bitch like that.

Cameron waited in House's office, all of the sudden feeling really pathetic for just sitting there but she didn't have the strength, courage, or desire to do anything more. She felt so ashamed. Ashamed of herself, what her life has become, just everything. It was time to let it all go. She had to let it go. She needed to stop dwelling on the mess. If she ever wanted to move forward, certain things needed to stay in the past. She just hoped that House wasn't one of those things that would be in the past.

House came rushing into the hospital for the second time today, looking a little wobbly on his feet. He hoped that none of the nurses or receptionists would notice but then he figured that they'd write it off as normal House behavior. He walk with determination to the elevators and waited rather impatiently for one of the cars to arrive. Unknown to him, Wilson and Cuddy watched him from behind the vending machines in the clinic room lobby. Both of them smiling and feeling like they were watching a chick flick in action. And this was the part that the man of the woman's dreams comes and confesses his undying love. Roll credits, that's a wrap. If only it were that simple.

House tapped his cane on the floor of the elevator car on his ride up. He hadn't asked Wilson where Cameron was but he knew, like some sixth sense, he knew exactly where she'd be. And then nervousness grew over him. A nervousness he hadn't felt since the Stacy days. He sighed and limped down the hallway to his office. He looked inside and saw her. She was sitting in one of his chairs with her back to him. She seemed to just be staring out the windows but he knew that she was most likely in some deep thought. He opened the door nervously and slipped into the room.

"You're an idiot," he said in his typical condescending way as he limped around the desk and sat in his chair. Cameron was a little shocked by his words, but then again, she was an idiot for expecting anything less. She lowered her head, unable to look into his eyes.

"Yeah, I know," she admitted picking at her nails in her lap.

"Walking around the streets of Princeton in the middle of the night isn't exactly the smartest thing you've ever done. Especially with that deranged sociopath you were dating just itching to get his hands on you," House said, taking the tennis ball from his desk and bouncing it against the wall.

"Can we not talk about him," her plea was almost inaudible. For the first time, Cameron looked up at House and held in a laugh as he was having difficulty catching his ball. "Are you drunk?" she asked. House stopped playing with the ball and returned it to its rightful place on his desk.

"A little. But I've always been a better pitcher than catcher" he winked at her.

"And here I was just thinking about the dynamics of your relationship with Wilson," she snarked back coldly and then looked away from him. Although she appreciated the normalcy of the conversation, she really wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"Hostility really isn't a flattering look for you," House retorted, popping a couple Vicodin in his mouth, knowing all too well that he was going to need them to get through this conversation.

"It always did look better on you," she mumbled.

"Why did you leave?" House asked, tiring of the needless exchange of words they'd been having. Cameron looked up at him, a little shocked that he'd so blatantly come out with the question. She couldn't help but to laugh at his question.

"I thought…I needed to move on," she answered honestly.

"And yet, here you are, in my office," House pointed out.

"Yeah, here I am. Because I'm lost, House. And I needed to talk to you,"

"So talk," he said

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" she asked shaking her head once more, losing the courage to speak her mind each and every time he opened his mouth. He was leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, slowly closing the space between them, making it even more difficult to think straight. God, one look into those eyes and she felt like melting away.

"Do I ever?" he joked.

"No, I guess not," Cameron paused for a second, biting on her bottom lip. "I can't do this anymore, House. All of this," she said motioning to the room around her. "I can't sit here and pretend that I'm okay and unaffected by you. My heart breaks every single day and I can't take it anymore. I tried moving on, tried seeing other people, but look where I ended up. Right back to you."

House watched her intently, listening to every word she said. He noticed she wasn't able to look him in the eye and that her hands were shaking. He saw the familiar glistening in her eyes which meant she was ready to cry.

"I've done so much for you!" she exclaimed. "I lie to people everyday for you. I go along with your crazy ideas. Yeah okay so I argue about them with you but at the end of the day, I still do exactly what you say. I went against Vogler for you. I lied to Tridder for you. I lie to Cuddy for you –"

"Why?" House cut her off. He stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk and sat on it, leaving Cameron sitting in the chair centered between his legs. "Look at me," he commanded. With a sniffle, Cameron looked up at him. "Why?"

"I love you. That's why. I'm so god damn hopelessly in love with you it's not even funny," she said, surprised that she was able to hold his gaze. House slid off the desk and grabbed her hands, pulling her from the seat and wrapped and arm around her waist. He led her to the door that opened up to the balcony. She walked slowly next to him, breathing in his scent of man mixed with scotch. He held the door open for her and motioned for her to go outside. Once on the balcony, he led her over to the ledge and together they looked out at the sun-splashed cityscape.

"Why?" He asked without looking at her. She scoffed and backed away from the ledge.

"I just told you that I'm in love with you and all you have to say is 'why'?" she asked incredulously. "You have some nerve!"

"You told me that I'm the reason you were doing drugs. That its my fault. You just told me that your heart breaks everyday, that you lie to everyone you care about and you endure all of this because you love me. So why do you love me?" He asked her again.

Cameron sighed and turned away from him. She had never thought about it before. What was it about this man that made her love him. It surely wasn't his charm or smoldering good looks. Sure he was smart, but is that enough to make her love him? She pondered on his question for a few minutes before walking back to ledge and placing a hand over top his.

"People used to tell me that people never change, they just become more of who they're meant to be. And I believed them for the longest time. Back then, it made sense. And then I met you. You – the contradiction to what I believed for the longest time," Cameron said looking out over the city. "People think they can change you – mold you into someone better, someone more acceptable – but that doesn't make you more of the person you're supposed to be. It makes you into the person they want you to be. They want you to fit inside a neat little package so they can top you off with a bow and present you to the world. But you –" Cameron paused and looked at him. "You don't fit into anyone's mold. You don't give a damn what the world thinks of you. You don't change for anyone. That's why I love you," she concluded her speech and took a deep breath looking back out into the distance.

House was silent for many minutes. Never in his life had he heard anything as truthful and beautiful come from another person. He turned to face her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears and trailing his fingers along her face. She leaned into his touch and smiled; loving the electricity she felt when he touched her skin. House cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers, kissing her slowly and passionately in an attempt to reciprocate what she'd just said without having to say anything at all.

Cameron raised herself on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer into her. She flicked her tongue across his bottom lip begging for entrance into his mouth. House obliged and parted his lips, slipping his tongue between her soft lips. She moaned at the feel of him and deepened the kiss. House's hands slid down her body and rested on her hips, pulling her as close as possible to him. When they broke the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers and breathed deeply.

"I haven't loved someone since Stacy. I don't – I don't even remember how to love. I can't promise that I'll be that man you want, but I can promise that I'll try," House whispered to her, still holding her close to him. Cameron nodded, understanding what he was saying.

"House?" she asked, pulling away from him just a bit so she could look into his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know you were a poet," she joked, pulling the folded noted from her pocket. She smiled and placed another kiss on his lips.

"What can I say, you inspired me," he said. "Let's get out of here," House placed a hand on the small of her back and walked her back inside the office.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not sure of anything else to say.

"To hell, Cameron. We are going to hell," House replied in a serious tone.

"I can think of somewhere to go and we can make it hotter than hell," her sultry voice reverberated in his mind. Cameron took a finger and slid it down his chest while licking her lips.

"Yup. We're definitely going to hell," he said, tracing the outline of her ear with a finger. Cameron shuddered under his touch and House smiled in triumph.

"Can we make a pit stop?" she asked.

"Where?"

"I gotta go to the bar and pay for my drinks," Cameron laughed as they walked together down the hallway towards the elevators. She wanted to grab his hand but she knew that he wasn't ready for all that. She finally had what she wanted and she was going to do everything in her power to not screw it up. And if that meant refraining from showing too much attention, then that's what she was going to do.

"Most people pay for their drinks before they leave the bar," House chastised her as they walked through the lobby of the hospital.

"I know, I know but Vince insisted that I leave to find you. Honestly, if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have come back here," she admitted as they climbed into House's car.

"Is that the one with the messy brown hair and the ridiculously charming smile?" House asked. Cameron shot him a weary look.

"How do you know him?" she asked.

"He was telling me a story of a pretty girl who was wallowing in her pity and something about how she was going to leave town because she was in love with her boss. I called her pathetic but he insisted she was just damaged," House teased as he drove them through the streets of Princeton completely bypassing the bar.

"So fate comes into play once more," Cameron mused, looking out the window at the passing buildings and people. "You passed the bar," she pointed out. But the look on House's face caused her to snap her mouth shut.

They were stopped at a red light and House looked at her, eyes black with desire. The sheer look of him awakened a sleeping need inside of her. She felt the familiar tugging in the pit of her stomach and knew that he was feeling the same thing.

"We'll go to the bar tomorrow," he said, turning his eyes back to the road and hoping he could make it to his apartment before the desire to rip her clothes off here and now overcame him. "Tonight, I want to be in hell."


End file.
